


either you’re a blessing or a lesson

by suzukiblu



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Genji Shimada, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, Hate Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, No Incest, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Post-Recall, Self-Worth Issues, Switching, Threesome, Touch-Starved, shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 65,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22363381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: Jesse has a problem, and that problem is the Shimada brothers.
Relationships: Genji Shimada & Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree/Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 61
Kudos: 355





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea for a McGenji/McHanzo story and immediately proceeded to Have To write it. Like, this was required labor, had to be done, no choice about it. You can definitely blame [dancinbutterfly](http://dancinbutterfly.tumblr.com/) for feeding it, too. Just . . . all the blame. That’s where all the blame/gratitude goes, right through that link. 
> 
> Also, I wrote a lot of this on my phone, so I apologize in advance if there are any weird typos or autocorrect issues. Also-also, not all those tags are relevant yet.

Genji is a whole pile of issues, Jesse has learned, and is learning even more thoroughly tonight. 

“This is a stupid idea,” Genji says. 

“I really don’t think so, myself,” Jesse says. “But if you ain’t comfortable with it . . .” 

“I did not say that,” Genji says, turning away from the bed. They’re in Jesse’s room, because Jesse actually _has_ a room. Genji has a bunk with a bare mattress and some weapons and not much else. 

And if they’re in Jesse’s room, Genji can leave and pretend like this never happened whenever he likes. 

“Okay,” Jesse says, because the fact of the matter is they just came off the mission from hell and he’s _wired_ as hell and all he wants is to put his hands all over somebody, and Genji, far as he can tell, wants the same thing. He don’t wanna think about Gabe’s face all smashed and bloody or Moira’s broken leg or any of his own aches and pains; he wants to think about making Genji come his fucking _brains_ out. 

“Okay,” Genji says, slowly, and Jesse steps in close and telegraphs _real_ obviously as he makes to put a hand on the other’s hip. Genji lets him, and that’s officially the most deliberately Jesse’s ever touched him. The times he had to drag him off a killing floor before he got killed himself don’t count, least not in his opinion. 

If they did, well—Jesse did that _today_ , hell. 

Anybody else he’d already be all over. Genji, obviously, is not anybody else. 

“Does the armor come off?” he asks. Genji stares up at him guardedly with glowing eyes. It occurs to Jesse to wonder how much nerve damage the guy’s got, and how well this is actually gonna work. He’s never been a hundred percent clear on just how much of Genji is a machine. His legs, at least, and obviously the right arm, and a not insignificant portion of his chest and stomach, and . . . 

“Some of it,” Genji says, and Jesse stops worrying about it. Genji’ll tell him if there’s anything he needs to know, he figures. 

“Tell me how,” Jesse says. 

“I can take it off,” Genji says. Jesse shakes his head. 

“I wanna do it,” he says. “Tell me how.” 

Genji’s face looks a little flushed, though it’s hard to tell for sure with the mask in the way. Jesse rubs his thumb against the other’s hip, and Genji glances down at his hand. 

“I cannot feel that,” he says. 

“Should I stop?” Jesse asks. Genji stares up at him and don’t say anything helpful at all. Jesse runs his thumb over a metal seam on his side, wondering if it comes apart. 

“There,” Genji says, and Jesse glances down. “There is—a clasp, if I—” 

Something clicks, and Jesse suddenly has the room to get his fingers into that seam. He searches out the clasp carefully, and Genji makes a strange noise when he finds it. He ain’t sure what the other’s actually feeling out of this, so he just tries to be gentle with it. 

“There is one on the other side too,” Genji says. His face is definitely flushed now. 

“Does that feel good?” Jesse asks, running his fingers over the other side of the seam until they catch on another clasp. 

“Sometimes,” Genji says. “My—there’s nerve damage. Some of my wires are crossed.” 

“I’d ask if that was a joke, but I’ve known you longer than thirty seconds,” Jesse says. Genji’s brow furrows. Jesse slides a hand up his side, slow and easy. The piece of armor comes away, and Jesse sets it down on the bed. It don’t really expose much skin, but there’s something vulnerable about the tubes and wires it does reveal. “This more comfortable, or . . .?” 

“Nothing is comfortable,” Genji says. Jesse gives him a wry look. 

“You gotta give me something to go on here, darlin’,” he says. Genji grimaces. It’s probably a grimace, anyway. Again, the mask is a thing. 

“It is . . . sensitive,” Genji says, and Jesse brushes a hand down over that thin strip of exposed skin. Genji grabs his sleeve, but don’t push or pull. “That. That is sensitive.” 

“Good sensitive?” Jesse asks. 

“I do not know,” Genji says. “I have never touched this body like that.” 

Jesse takes a moment to process that, then breathes out real slow. 

“Okay,” he says. “Tell me if it’s too much, then.” 

“I—alright,” Genji says. Jesse takes a step back and drops to his knees, and Genji startles a little, but don’t rabbit. Jesse kisses that exposed skin, and Genji shudders. 

“Good?” Jesse asks. 

“Do it again,” Genji says, which is, Jesse supposes, technically an answer. He presses his mouth to the other’s skin, just for a moment, and then drags his tongue across it. Genji shudders again. 

He’s real pretty, but Jesse ain’t fool enough to try telling him that. Not yet, anyway. 

“We should turn off the lights,” Genji says stiffly, immediately proving just why Jesse can’t tell him nothing about how pretty he is. 

“Not to be the voice of dissent, but it’s gonna be a mite hard to make sure I ain’t pulling any important wires out if it’s dark,” Jesse says, and Genji grimaces again and puts a hand to his face. 

To the mask, more like. 

“You are right. That was stupid of me,” Genji says bitterly. Jesse ghosts his fingers up his side. 

“Ain’t stupid,” he says. 

“Stupid,” Genji repeats in that same bitter tone, stepping back. Jesse gets back to his feet, and Genji turns away from him. “This was a mistake. I am not—this was a mistake.” 

“You’re beautiful,” Jesse says, because he’s always been a damn idiot who can’t keep his fool mouth shut. Genji stiffens all the way up his spine, then turns a betrayed look on him. “No, don’t look at me like that. I mean it.” 

“I am not even _human_ ,” Genji hisses. 

“Even if that’s true, you ain’t the only person in the world who ain’t,” Jesse says, reaching out and catching the other’s wrist. Genji lets him, but maybe just because it’s the right one and he can’t really feel it. Jesse gives him a light tug. “C’mere. C’mon.” 

“Do not mock me,” Genji snaps. “I know what I look like.” 

“I don’t, actually,” Jesse says. “Unless the mask don’t come off. Does it?” 

“Shut up,” Genji says, covering it with his hand. Anybody else Jesse would’ve already had flat on their back on his mattress, sheets all rucked up and stripped naked and begging for more. Genji, though, don’t even know what feels good in his own body. 

Jesse’d thought this’d be different, the times he’d thought about it before. He’d always pictured something quick and dirty and messy, but something like that . . . no, he don’t think that’d work. 

“You don’t gotta take the mask off,” he says. Genji stares up at him, still covering the mask with his hand. Jesse’s still got his own hand on the other wrist. “You don’t gotta take off anything you don’t wanna.” 

“I am not _delicate_ ,” Genji grits out defensively, and Jesse holds his wrist like it’s as fragile as this whole thing is, like it’s liable to crack at any little mistake. 

“I don’t think you’re delicate,” he says. “You’re liable to bite me if I fuck up, for one thing. And by ‘bite’ I think I mean ‘stab’, honestly.” 

“I am not going to stab you,” Genji says unconvincingly. Jesse, for obvious reasons, ain’t convinced. 

“Trust me,” he says. “You put your life in my hands every mission. You think I wanna fuck you up now?” 

“I did not say that,” Genji says, and Jesse catches both his wrists and brings his hands up to his face, dropping a kiss into the palm of each. Genji shudders again. 

“We’ll take it slow,” Jesse promises, even though he still feels like somebody stuck a live wire in him and would much rather be breaking the bed right now. He didn’t pick Genji for this just because he was the nearest warm body, though. 

“I have never done that in my _life_ ,” Genji says with a humorless laugh. Jesse kisses the inside of his wrists, and Genji exhales roughly, his fingers curling. “I am . . . damaged. I do not know how well my body can perform.” 

“You willing to find out?” Jesse asks. “‘Cause that’s all that matters to me.” 

“You can fuck me,” Genji says, though it sounds less like an invitation and more like he’s offering him compensation for something. Like he thinks he’s so fucked up that Jesse’d just want to get his dick wet and then kick him out. He sounds _nothing_ like the vicious and ruthless man Jesse knows him to be. 

“What else can I do?” Jesse asks instead of dragging any of that out into the light, and Genji . . . hesitates, and takes his hands back. 

“What do you want to do?” he asks guardedly. 

“Make you come, mostly,” Jesse says. “Ain’t too particular about the how, so long as you like it.” 

“I do not know if I can,” Genji says, which, oh man, if Jesse ever meets another Shimada . . . 

“If you can’t, you can’t,” he says with a shrug he does his damnedest to make look easy. “Might as well try.” 

“Mm," Genji says, looking away. Jesse leans in and presses a kiss to the skin next to his eye. Genji don't look at him. 

"Bed?" Jesse suggests, and Genji nods, slowly. Good enough, Jesse figures. He tugs the other up against the side of the bed, sitting down on the edge, and Genji lets himself be pulled down beside him. Jesse wants to touch him everywhere, but he don't know what's safe territory and what's a minefield. 

Slow, like he said, he reminds himself. He kisses Genji's face again, and Genji turns away. 

"You do not have to do that," he says. 

"Does it feel bad?" 

". . . no." 

"You don't like it?" 

"No." 

"Then I wanna do it." 

"Alright," Genji says. The far wall must be fucking _fascinating_. Jesse kisses him again, then goes down on his knees in front of him. 

"Tell me what comes off?" he asks, putting his hands on the other's patchwork armor. 

"Not that part." Genji moves one of his hands, and the panel he moves it to gives an already familiar click. Jesse gets his fingers in the seam and finds the latches, and another piece of Genji's armor peels away. More tubes and wires, again, but also a bit more skin. He ain't sure which is more intimate, but the sight of both makes him feel a bit spun. 

He leans in and kisses the place where flesh and metal meets, and Genji exhales shakily. 

"You do not . . ." he starts, then trails off. 

"I really do," Jesse says, then kisses it again. Another piece of armor clicks, and he finds its latches. Genji leans back on his hands, looking overwhelmed already, and Jesse reminds himself—slow. Do this slow. 

He sets aside the latest piece of armor. Genji watches warily, and Jesse drinks in the full picture of him. He looks beautiful, whether he thinks he is or not, and Jesse ain't ashamed to admit how much this is really doing it for him. It's _Genji_ , who's had his back all this time and is so determined to get his stupid ass killed and just as determined to wreak bloody vengeance on the people who wronged him, who'll never show anyone anything soft or vulnerable, never admit when he's hurt or in pain, and . . . 

Yeah. Yeah, this is doing a lot for him. 

Jesse moves forward between Genji's knees to kiss the flat plate over his stomach, and it clicks. Jesse removes it easily and sets it aside with the others. No new skin is exposed, so he wonders why Genji unlocked it at all, but maybe he really is more comfortable without it. 

Well. As much as Genji's ever "comfortable", anyway. 

They haven't gotten to his crotch. Jesse debates bringing it up, but . . . well, there's other things he can do, for the moment. He runs his hands over Genji's thighs and they fall open wider, making more room for him between them. 

Definitely a good result. 

"Genji," he says, because he wants to be real clear that he's here in this moment and _wants_ this, and Genji shudders like he's touched him someplace _real_ sensitive. "You know what you want, darlin’?" 

"No," Genji says, shoulders tightening anxiously, and again Jesse thinks some real dark thoughts about the other Shimadas. 

"Okay," he says, dropping a kiss against the inside curve of Genji's thigh. It's all smooth metal under his mouth so he doubts the other's feeling much of anything, but he does it all the same. There's not a piece of Genji that don't deserve the attention. He mouths up the length of the other's thigh, watching Genji watch him, and Genji breathes in quiet, shaking gasps, fisting his hands in the blankets. 

Jesse ain't hardly _touched_ him. 

He slides a palm up the curve of the other's hip and Genji holds himself very, very still. Jesse mouths at his thigh and digs his fingers into his ass, which as far as he can tell is mostly metal and plastic and silicone. Genji hisses like it feels good, though, so maybe it ain't. 

He could ask, but that might be the thing that'd be too much, so he don't. He runs his hands and mouth over Genji's hips, looking for the places that'll make him hiss like that again, and Genji stifles quiet noises behind his teeth. Something clicks, and Jesse lifts his head curiously to find out what it was. 

It's the plate over Genji's crotch. 

Jesse buries a smile against Genji's thigh, then leans back and slips his fingers into the seams. 

"I am damaged," Genji says roughly, tightening his grip on the blankets. Jesse leans in to nuzzle the wires in his stomach. 

"Can't say as I mind," he says. 

"Mm." Genji squeezes his eyes shut, like he can't stand to keep looking. Jesse watches his face for a moment, what little he can see of it, and then removes the plate. It don't reveal no more skin or tubes or wires, just a flat black expanse that he ain't sure ain't more armor. He touches it, and it's soft. Genji makes a pained, desperate sound. He don't open his eyes. 

Jesse feels along the seams. There ain't latches, but . . . well, it does seem like it'll peel back, if he tries? 

"Genji, darlin’, I gotta know if I'm about to fuck up something important here," he says. Genji just shakes his head mutely, not opening his eyes. Jesse is _almost_ sure that's an answer but really don't wanna risk it. "Genji—" 

"Please do not ask me," Genji says in this truly _wretched_ tone. He's tense all over and Jesse softens in response, running his hands over the other's thighs again. 

"Okay," he says. "Just tell me if anything hurts, alright?" 

"Everything hurts," Genji says, which . . . well, he guesses he did ask. 

"Where's it worst?" Jesse says. 

Genji puts a hand over his chest, clutching above his heart. 

. . . again, Jesse did ask. 

"Okay," he says, leaning up to press a kiss to the sharp edge of Genji's mask. Genji shudders, his eyes opening blurrily. He don't look down at himself. Jesse kisses the mask again. 

"I cannot feel that," Genji says. 

"You don't like it?" Jesse asks, and Genji looks away. He still don't look down. Jesse kisses his throat instead, the bare line of skin there, and the shudder's a lot harder this time. "How about that?" 

"You ask too many questions," Genji says. 

"I'm just trying to treat you right, darlin’," Jesse tells him. "It's okay if you don't wanna answer. We can stop." 

"I . . . do not want to stop," Genji says, shifting uncomfortably. His hands twist in the blankets. 

"Believe me, I don't either," Jesse tells him. "But I don't wanna hurt you none either. You gotta tell me if I'm doing something wrong." 

Genji may in fact be the single most complicated person Jesse's ever had in his bed, and he ain't used to having to be this careful about every little thing. But again, he didn't pick Genji for this because Genji was the nearest warm body; he picked Genji because he wanted him here. If it's complicated, so what? He can do complicated. 

"Alright," Genji says stiffly. Jesse kisses his throat again and gets another shudder for it. It ain't perfect, but neither is Genji, and neither is he, so . . . 

"Okay," he says. Genji pulls his legs up a bit; squeezes his knees in against his sides. Jesse mouths up his neck and leans in closer, so their chests press together. It'd actually put them skin to skin, if Jesse'd had the foresight to take off his shirt. Or his body armor. Or _anything_. 

Lord Almighty, he is not a smart man. 

He wants to kiss Genji, but of course that ain't a simple thing. Maybe Genji can't even do that kinda thing. He settles for kissing the mask again, and Genji tilts his head into it almost like he _is_ kissing him, and that's . . . embarrassingly hot, actually. 

"You're a fucking treat, you know that?" Jesse says admiringly. 

"No," Genji says, which, well, at least he's being honest. 

"You are," Jesse says. "Sweetest thing I ever laid hands on." 

"Take your shirt off," Genji says, which sounds like a diversion but ain't one Jesse minds. 

"Anything you like, darlin’," he says, leaning back again to follow orders. Genji keeps his prosthetic hand in the sheets but reaches out to skim the other one up his chest, which Jesse _definitely_ don't mind. He strips off his hat and gloves and lets his shirt and armor drop carelessly on the floor, much less careful with them than he was with Genji's, and Genji hooks a hand around the back of his neck and a leg around the small of his back and reels him back in. 

"Do you want to come?" he asks. 

"Ideally, but I ain't in no rush," Jesse says, putting a hand on the soft black plane of Genji's hips and getting a little hiss in response. "You first, okay?" 

"McCree," Genji pants, immediately breathless again. He puts his hand over Jesse's, but don't do nothing else. 

"This alright?" Jesse asks, searching what little he can see of the other's face. Genji nods past a grimace. "Feels okay?" 

Genji hesitates a moment, but then nods again. Jesse kisses the sharp corner of his mask and rubs the heel of his hand over that flat black plane, looking for the sensitive spots. They ain't hard to find. 

"Good," he says. "Tell me if it don't." 

Genji nods again, but it's distracted this time. His fingers are digging into the back of Jesse's hand, and his hips are tilting into it. Jesse ain't sure what's under the black—he can't feel much through it—but it seems to be sensitive enough. He keeps up the rubbing, and Genji starts breathing raggedly. Jesse licks his neck and gets something damn close to a moan out of him. 

"I love that sound," Jesse says, and Genji stifles another moan. "No, come on, darlin’, let me hear you. Don't I deserve nice things?" 

"Do not be an ass," Genji says, and hisses as Jesse rubs him again. 

"I mean it," Jesse says, nuzzling into his throat. "You sound better'n anything." 

“Shut up,” Genji says. Jesse kisses his mask again and flexes his hand against him. “Nnn!” 

“There you go,” Jesse says, because if he shut up every time Genji told him to he’d never talk again. He keeps moving his hand in the same rhythmic rubbing gesture, and Genji grinds his hips back against it and covers his mask with a hand like he’s trying to muffle the heated little noises that keep escaping him. Jesse kisses the back of his hand and Genji makes another strangled noise. 

_“McCree,”_ Genji hisses, and Jesse sighs contentedly. 

“I could listen to you say my name like that all night,” he says. Genji tries—and fails—to repress another moan. Jesse leans into him and Genji leans back, shuddering. His fingers twist in the sheets and tighten on his mask, and Jesse keeps touching him. “Feel good, darlin’? You like it?” 

“McCree,” Genji manages again. His voice cracks on the name, and Jesse hums quietly to himself in pleasure, leaning in again. Genji crumples to the mattress underneath his weight and Jesse pushes himself up to cover his body with his own. He pins him down and Genji makes strange, breathless sounds and _squirms_ underneath him. It’s not much of a pin. Genji could break it easy as anything. 

He don’t. 

Jesse really likes that. 

“Yeah, you like it,” he murmurs lowly. “I like it too. You’re so pretty, Genji, you look like a fucking _war_. I wanna make you feel so good you can’t even handle it.” 

“McCree,” Genji says, voice weak and eyes flickering erratically, and Jesse puts his hand on the flat black plane of his hips again and Genji fucking _whines_ for it. Jesse replaces his hand with his thigh and takes Genji’s wrists in his hands, pinning them gently to the mattress. 

“I got you,” he says, pressing his thigh up into the other’s body. 

“Harder,” Genji says, and real obviously ain’t talking about his thigh. Jesse tightens his grip on his wrists, and Genji stares up at him intently for a long, long moment. He don’t try to break the hold. Jesse rocks his thigh against his body and Genji’s eyes snap shut, his head tipping back into the mattress and revealing the long, vulnerable line of his throat. Jesse rewards the behavior by mouthing up it. Genji rewards _him_ with a moan, quiet but carrying and sweet as anything. 

“Oughta do this after every mission, shove you over and treat you nice,” Jesse says, nuzzling him again. “Make you feel as good as you deserve to.” 

“I do not deserve to feel good,” Genji says raggedly, which is a _whole_ thing to unpack there. But that’s a therapist’s problem, not Jesse’s, so he just kisses the other’s mask again and squeezes his wrists in his hands. 

“Pretty sure you deserve it more than anybody else I know, darlin’,” he says, which ain’t even an exaggeration. Genji makes a noise, something pained and aching, and Jesse rubs his thigh against him again. Genji makes another noise, and it’s a much, much sweeter one. “Mmm, there we go. You’ve got the prettiest voice, you know that?” 

“You talk too much,” Genji says tightly. 

“So I been told,” Jesse says wryly, because _then shut me up_ would be likelier to get him headbutted than kissed. A _lot_ likelier, all things considered. He squeezes Genji’s wrists again, and Genji’s fingers curl against nothing. “You know I mean it, yeah? I ain’t lying to you.” 

“People say things in bed,” Genji says, his eyes flicking away. “It is fine.” 

“Maybe, but I don’t _lie_ in bed,” Jesse says, rubbing against him again. Genji makes a strangled sound, tensing in his grip and arching into the point of contact. “You’re so damn pretty. Most gorgeous thing I ever saw. You make me wanna kill everybody who’s ever done shit to you.” 

“That would be a lot of people,” Genji says distantly. 

“I got a lot of ammunition,” Jesse says. He kisses the mask again. Genji closes his eyes and tilts his head into it, pushing his hips up against his thigh. Jesse hums contentedly. 

Genji opens his eyes again, slowly, and Jesse drops a kiss on his forehead. Genji’s breathing roughly, hips moving erratically, and Jesse leans down heavier over him to weigh him down, the other’s body sinking into the mattress. Genji’s breathing gets even rougher, and he digs his heels into the bed. Jesse holds back a lot of too-true things, not because he don’t wanna say ‘em but because he’s pretty sure it’d be too much right now. 

Genji can’t even handle him telling him his _voice_ is pretty. He definitely would not be able to handle the kind of things Jesse wants to say. 

“I wanna touch you everywhere,” he says instead, because that’ll probably get by. Genji huffs at him, but don’t protest. 

“Do not let go,” he says, officially making sure that letting go of him is the damn _last_ thing Jesse is ever gonna do. He grips the other’s wrists tighter, and Genji lets out a shaky breath and rubs up against him harder. Jesse pushes back against him to encourage the behavior. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. Genji looks up at him with heavy, hazy eyes, hooking a leg across the back of his thighs. Jesse groans, ‘cause maybe it ain’t much contact but it _is_ Genji pulling him in closer, wanting him there. “How’s it feeling?” 

“Mm.” Genji squirms underneath him, which is about enough to take his breath away, and furrows his brow. “It is—I do not—mm.” 

“Ain’t bad, at least?” Jesse says, and Genji nods mutely. “Okay.” 

If Genji can’t admit a thing feels good, well, Jesse ain’t gonna force him. So long as he’ll tell him if it _ain’t_ good, he can work out the rest for himself. 

Again: Genji is the single most complicated person he’s ever had in his bed. 

Again: he didn’t pick Genji for this just because the other was the nearest warm body. 

Jesse kisses the corner of Genji’s eye and Genji grinds up against his thigh with a breathless grunt, his body tensing again and hands fisting. With somebody else, Jesse might assume that was a bad reaction. With Genji, it just seems inevitable. 

“Bad?” Jesse asks just to be safe as he pushes his thigh up for the other, and Genji shakes his head again. His breathing’s picking up, fast and restless, and he’s moving his hips quicker. Jesse don’t really know what to expect from or do for him, but figures letting Genji figure it out himself is a good start. He’d know, after all. 

Jesse kisses the mask again, and Genji groans and arches up into him, panting for breath. 

“McCree,” he manages, voice crackling with static. _“McCree.”_

“I got you, darlin’,” Jesse promises, pushing his thumbs across the insides of the other’s wrists. Genji _shudders_ , and the rhythm of his hips turns jerky and erratic. His heel digs into the back of Jesse’s thigh and Jesse thinks about the knife in the other’s calf and how quick the guy could fuck him up if he wanted to. Genji real clearly ain’t interested in doing that, though, and this might be the least violent Jesse’s ever seen him. 

He likes that. 

He hopes Genji likes it too. 

Genji starts making breathy, urgent noises and tips his head backwards into the mattress. His noises get more and more urgent, and hotter and hotter to listen to. Jesse wants to do something for him, but feels like just being here might be the best thing he _can_ do. Getting Genji in this space, letting him feel this way, and letting him do this until he—

Genji chokes, whole body going taut and trembling, and Jesse wants to say a lot of too-true things. 

A lot of things in general, really. 

Genji goes limp underneath him, still panting, and Jesse presses a kiss to his throat. Genji moans. He tugs at his wrists, and Jesse lets go of them. Genji pulls back from him, curling in on himself, and Jesse gives him the space to do it. 

“Bad?” he asks quietly, and Genji rolls onto his side and hides his face in his arms. 

He shakes his head. 

Jesse exhales, and lays down beside him. He looks at the long line of the other’s spine, all his mismatched tubes and wires and the places where the armor came away, and then just watches him breathe. He wonders what’s under the rest of the armor, and can’t help but suspect it’s skin. 

What would Genji be more concerned with protecting, after all? 

Jesse puts a hand on Genji’s back and strokes. Genji shudders, then reaches back and pulls his arm across his body. Jesse’s more than willing to go with the suggestion and follows the pulling until he ends up pressed against the other’s back, arms around his waist. There’s some tubes and wires that he has to be careful not to lay on and Genji’s body ain’t soft or warm or anything like that, but the way the other fits in his arms still feels just right. 

Probably that’s one of those things Genji wouldn’t wanna hear, but Jesse sure as hell is thinking it all the same. 

“Alright there, darlin’?” he asks, tracing a hand across the vulnerable wires of the other’s stomach. Genji shivers. 

“I am . . . yes. I am alright,” he murmurs. 

“Good.” Jesse presses his mouth against his hair. Genji don’t shrug him off or move away. 

“McCree,” he says, and nothing else. It ain’t a warning, but Jesse ain’t sure what it is. 

“Yeah?” he asks, letting his hand flatten over Genji’s stomach. 

“Do you want to come?” Genji says. 

“Can’t say as I’d mind,” Jesse says wryly. “Ain’t no rush, though.” 

“Mm.” Genji turns his head just enough to look back at him, and Jesse takes the excuse to kiss the corner of his eye again. Genji sighs, then reaches back and tugs meaningfully at his pants. Jesse ain’t the ungrateful sort, so he unzips himself and lets Genji reach in and wrap his hand around him. He’s only half-hard, but it is _damn_ impressive how fast his cock jerks to attention at—well, the attention. 

“I don’t mind not coming either,” he says, mostly because he’s remembering how transactional Genji made this sound earlier. It is _very_ hard to say with Genji’s hand on him, but it needs to be said, obviously. 

“I want to see it,” Genji says, and squeezes his cock. 

Well. Like Jesse said, he ain’t the ungrateful sort. 

“If you insist,” he says, kissing the other’s temple. Genji strokes him, and he groans into his hair, easy and immediate. It ain’t gonna take much effort, he already knows. Genji’s just feeling him out, though, it seems. Seeing as it’s been a while for him, Jesse’s willing to be patient. 

It is _real_ hard to be patient, though. 

“You are big,” Genji observes, sounding nearly skeptical about it—like Jesse’s playing a trick on him or something. 

“A little bit,” Jesse says with a low laugh, putting a hand on his hip. Genji huffs, then looks down at his cock as he wraps his hand around it proper and pushes his thumb across the head. Jesse groans again, for obvious reasons. Genji seems oddly transfixed, and just keeps staring at his cock as he strokes it. “Mmm. That’s nice.” 

“I would imagine,” Genji says dryly, and Jesse laughs again. It _is_ nice, so so what if he says it? Everything about Genji is nice, even the knives and nasty parts. “Here. Like this,” he says, and lets go of Jesse’s cock to put a hand on his hip and pull him forward. 

“Mmm?” Jesse hums, glancing down. Genji guides his cock between his thighs and then squeezes them together, and Jesse’s hum turns low and pleased. He puts his hand on the flat black expanse of Genji’s hips, and Genji sort of . . . sighs, a bit, and presses back into him. 

“Move,” Genji says, so Jesse does. He don’t say anything about _how_ to move, though, so Jesse goes with short, slow thrusts, so he ain’t hardly moving at all. He wants to drag things out a bit, maybe; sue him. Genji gives him a dubious look, and he grins back at him lazily and strokes across his hips. Genji hisses. 

“Bad?” Jesse asks, and Genji shakes his head and tightens up around him. Genji’s thighs are mostly silicone and metal, so far as Jesse can tell, but they feel real nice around his cock. He keeps fucking into them, though probably he should be finding the lube for this. “Hold on,” he says, and pulls back just enough to spit into his palm and slick himself up a bit. Genji makes an impatient noise and kind of _wriggles_ and damn, okay, that is very attractive on him, Jesse thinks. 

He pushes forward again, and Genji grunts. Jesse wonders if he can feel his cock or not, if it’s doing anything for him rubbing against him. It don’t matter, really; he’s just curious. 

“I said you were a treat, right?” he says. Genji reaches back and hooks a hand around the back of his neck, and Jesse puts his hands on his hips and thrusts forward a bit deeper this time. Genji makes a breathy sound like maybe he _is_ feeling something, and that just makes Jesse thrust deeper still, holding Genji’s hips tight. 

“You talk too much,” Genji says, which Jesse’s pretty sure he’s already said too. 

“You make me wanna talk all night,” he says, nudging aside a few tubes to nuzzle the nape of the other’s neck. Genji snorts, but then makes that breathy sound again. “Bad?” 

“Do not be an idiot,” Genji says, his fingers curling against Jesse’s neck. Jesse pushes his mouth into his throat and keeps thrusting. Genji makes that sound again and again, not even trying to muffle it, and Jesse could practically come just from _that_ , he thinks. He still don’t know what Genji’s got going on under that flat black plane or in any of those crossed wires of his, but anything he so much as _hints_ at liking Jesse is gonna be all over. 

“You’re so good, sweetheart,” Jesse says, which is a stupid thing to say to Genji, but Genji don’t bolt or even stab him for it, which he really would’ve expected. He says something in spiteful Japanese, but Jesse ain’t sure what. Probably not a curse—he knows most of those by now. He hooks his chin over the other’s shoulder and looks down his body and keeps touching him, keeps fucking him, and then Genji _does_ say a few curses, hot and quick and punched out of him. 

Jesse’s heard a lot of real angry Japanese in his life, working with Genji, but it sounds a lot sweeter like this. 

“I said not to be an idiot,” Genji says roughly, his voice cracking slightly every time Jesse thrusts. Jesse nuzzles him. 

“Mm, did you?” he says. “Can’t say as I remember.” 

“Idiot,” Genji bites off again, and Jesse slips a hand over the front of his hips again too. “Nnngh!”

“Bad?” he asks again, and mouths up the other’s neck. 

“Do not _stop_ ,” Genji hisses back at him, digging his fingers in. Jesse has no intention to. 

“I assure you, that is the last thing on my mind,” he says, rocking his hips in a little quicker, and Genji pretty definitely has some wires crossed down there because he’s moaning like Jesse’s got his _dick_ in him. Or maybe that wouldn’t make Genji moan, come to think. Not like Jesse knows either way. 

He’d definitely like to find out. 

Genji keeps moaning, and Jesse keeps fucking into the tight vise of his thighs, and he does his best to make it last but he’s only a damn man and can only last so long. 

“You’re gonna make me come,” he pants into Genji’s throat, and Genji lets go of the back of his neck and puts his hand over the one Jesse’s rubbing him with and makes this fucking _sound_ — 

Jesse comes, because he is, again, only a damn man. He thrusts ‘til he’s too sensitive to do it anymore, and Genji whines quietly as he stutters to a stop. Jesse digs his nails into the other’s hips and exhales shakily, feeling wrung-out and weak and _perfect_. 

Genji _squirms_. 

That takes care of that weak feeling _real_ quick. 

“You want more?” Jesse manages, and Genji don’t say nothing, but he _looks_ at him and yeah, okay. Jesse can do more. “I got you.” 

“McCree,” Genji says, and Jesse lets go of his hips and moves back, tugging the other onto his back. Genji goes with it, and Jesse nearly groans at the sight of those pretty thighs dripping with come. Specifically _his_ come, even, which is just a whole thing right there, God _damn_. 

“Ain’t you a sight,” he says reverently, then retreats down the bed to lick those thighs clean. Genji chokes; puts his hand in his hair. Jesse drags his tongue up the inside curve of his thigh and nearly gets kicked for it. “Careful, darlin’.” 

“You make it very hard to be careful,” Genji says. He ain’t looking at him, which Jesse suspects is more ‘cause he don’t wanna be looking at his own body than anything he’s got against Jesse, and he can understand that. He’s reacting to _something_ , though, so Jesse supposes that means he’s _feeling_ something. 

“That’s a fine compliment,” he hums, and licks up the last of his come. Genji makes some real delightful noises. Jesse runs his hands up his thighs. “Can I go down on you?” 

“I do not know,” Genji says tightly. 

“Hm.” Jesse lays his head against the other’s thigh, peering up at him. He looks awful stressed for having somebody’s head in his lap. “Can I try?” 

Genji—hesitates. 

“It’s okay to say no,” Jesse tells him, and Genji shakes his head. He hesitates another moment, then reaches down and peels apart the flat black plane covering his pelvis. Jesse tilts his head curiously. Genji has a cock, it turns out. 

A cock made of silicone and plastic, from the look of it, so yeah, okay. He gets why the other ain’t too excited about looking at himself naked. It’s soft and smooth, about average size, and Jesse ain’t sure how to approach it. 

“Tell me if it feels bad,” he says finally, and leans in to lick a testing stripe up its length. Genji curses, and his cock twitches against Jesse’s tongue. 

Well, alright. Seems to work enough like any other dick to be getting on with, Jesse figures, wrapping his fingers around the base and licking it again before pushing his mouth down around the head. Genji jerks a heel against the bed. Jesse feels kinda like he’s sucking on a toy—there's no smell of sweat or taste of precome, for one thing—but Genji definitely ain't reacting like it's a toy. 

The thing lights up in a few places, he notices, which was a _damn_ weird decision on someone's part. Nobody went to any effort to make this thing pass for a more usual kind of cock, for whatever reason. If Genji can feel something through it, though, well, that's all that really matters. 

Jesse sucks, rolling his tongue up tight, and Genji curses down at him, his fingers tangling roughly in his hair. It feels kinda good, so Jesse don't mind. He watches Genji cover his face with his metal hand, but it only hides so much. 

The mask takes care of the rest pretty well, of course. 

"Genji," he pulls back just long enough to say, and then swallows him down completely. Genji yelps. It is the most damn _perfect_ sound. 

Jesse works his mouth around Genji's cock and Genji struggles not to buck his hips up. Jesse wouldn't mind if he did, but is more occupied with sucking him off than he is with mentioning that. Priorities, and all. Genji keeps making those real sweet noises and even fucking _squirms_ , so clearly Jesse picked the right priorities. 

He wants to talk, because he wants to say all those too-true things from before, so it probably _is_ for the best he's got a mouthful of cock right now. 

He bobs his head and tugs meaningfully at Genji's hips and coaxes the other into not exactly _fucking_ his mouth, but at least moving up into it. He does his damnedest to make it good for him, even though figuring out the sensitive spots on a prosthetic is definitely trickier than it needs to be. Eventually he figures out the differences, though, and Genji starts choking and cursing again. Jesse tugs the other's thighs over his shoulders and swallows around him as tight as he can. Genji curses and trembles and fucking _whines_. 

Jesse feels pretty good about the job he's doing, all things considered. 

He sucks harder and bobs his head quicker and Genji yanks his hair and digs his heels into his back and moans up at the ceiling again and again, over and over. Jesse groans around his cock, and Genji moans louder and arches up into him. 

It's hard to tell when he comes, exactly, but the way he fucking _writhes_ with it is a damn delight to watch. Jesse would happily stay down here all night if it meant getting a show like that again. 

"McCree!" Genji gasps out somewhere in there, and Jesse lets his softening cock fall out of his mouth and smirks up at him, even though Genji still ain't looking. 

"You know, you can call me Jesse when I've got your dick in my mouth," he says lightly. Genji grunts, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

"You are impossible," he says. Jesse gives his cock another lick, and he stifles another whine. Jesse smiles, just briefly, and then crawls up the other's body to kiss his throat, folding the black material back over his crotch for him. It's heavier than it looks. Genji huffs, dropping his arm away from his eyes and looking up at him. 

Jesse smiles again, because it's awful hard not to, and Genji softens. Just a bit, but he softens. 

It might just be the prettiest sight Jesse's ever seen. 

"Wanna stay for a while?" he asks, laying down beside him and putting a hand on his hip. 

"I should go," Genji says, but he don't move. Jesse smiles wider; can't help it. 

"You can if you gotta," he says. "But I'd like you sticking around a while." 

"Mm." Genji shifts against the bed, turning towards him. Jesse strokes a hand down his side. "Just for a little while, then. Not long." 

"Sure," Jesse agrees, as a man wholeheartedly determined to get Genji to stay all night. Why not? They ain't got anywhere to be tomorrow. 

And he'd really like it, he thinks, waking up next to Genji. 

Genji makes a low noise, and Jesse strokes his side again; curls in close towards him. It'd be cuddling, with anyone else. Genji's got just a bit too many sharp edges for that, though—and he _ain't_ talking about the metal ones. 

Jesse don't mind. Genji can be as sharp and as complicated as he likes, so long as he stays Genji. That's more than enough, Jesse thinks. 

That's all he wants, himself. 

"Bad?" he asks, laying his arm across Genji's side, and Genji puts a hand on his forearm.

"No," he says quietly, and Jesse smiles. "Not bad."


	2. Chapter 2

Hanzo Shimada is a beautiful man, and Jesse hates him for it. He wonders, just to himself, if there's any family resemblance between him and Genji. Don't seem to be none around the eyes, and they're built different, but that ain't much to go off. 

Genji still won't take his mask off in front of nobody, last Jesse knew. 

So yeah. He hates Hanzo Shimada for being a beautiful man. 

"You're up late," he observes evenly before bringing his cigar to his lips, because it's late at night and they're alone, which just for the record is a terribly stupid place for Hanzo to be if he wants to survive long enough to join Overwatch. And he does, apparently, want to join Overwatch. 

Genji'd also told him the bastard wanted to die, though, so Jesse ain't gonna be providing _that_ particular mercy. 

It's been five long years since he saw Genji on the regular, and Genji's a very different man from the man he used to be, but that don't mean Jesse still don't feel a _fire_ in himself at the sight of Hanzo Shimada walking around free and clear and forgiven. 

The man don't seem to have forgiven himself, at least, which is the only reason Jesse ain't beaten the shit out of him yet. 

He's still pretty sure he's gonna, one of these days. 

"So are you," Hanzo says. Jesse raises an eyebrow at him. Stating the obvious might be the closest either of them can get to being civil with each other, he figures. 

"Seems so," he says. They're in the kitchen, because Jesse wanted coffee and Hanzo wanted who knows what. He exhales smoke, and watches the other's face. He can smell alcohol on him. 

Hanzo moves past him. Jesse stomps on the childish urge to trip him, and the less childish urge to bash his face into the sharp edge of the counter until he sees blood. 

He had the nightmare again, so he's seen enough blood tonight. 

Hanzo makes coffee. Jesse smokes his cigar. He watches the man move, and notes how different it is from the way Genji does. He's an archer, apparently. Used to be a swordsman, but not anymore. He's got maybe the coldest eyes Jesse's ever seen on somebody he's supposed to be working with, including Moira in her lab and Gabe at his worst. At least they'd still cared about _something_. He don't think Hanzo could say the same. 

"You know I was Blackwatch, right?" he says.

"Yes," Hanzo says, not looking away from the coffeemaker. "Genji informed me." 

Jesse wonders just what Genji said, but not enough to ask. He don't trust Hanzo would tell him the truth anyway, so there ain't no point. 

"We worked together, him and I," he says. "We're the only two Blackwatch members who answered Recall." 

Hanzo looks at him. He don't say anything. Jesse ashes his cigar, because otherwise he might put it out in the bastard's eye. 

"He told me some shit about you too," he says, and some of the tension leaves Hanzo's shoulders. 

"Then you know what I have done," he says. 

"The whole damn place does," Jesse says, though he don't blame the man for wondering, with how easy Winston let him in the base. "Though probably some of us in more detail than others." 

"And you would be one of the ones who knew the details, I suppose," Hanzo says. Jesse grins at him, but it's a nasty, savage thing. Hanzo inclines his head in acknowledgement. 

"They sure are some details, Shimada," Jesse says. He grinds out the stub of his cigar in the ashtray, crushing it down small. Hanzo watches him do it with a neutral expression, then flicks his eyes back to his face. He ain't a very expressive man, it seems, but he's a damned sight easier to read than Genji ever was. 

Of course, Jesse was willing to put in the extra effort for Genji. This man, not so much. 

"I did what I did," Hanzo says. "I will not pretend differently." 

"Murdered your brother, you mean," Jesse says. "That's what you did." 

"Yes." Hanzo's expression don't so much as flicker. Jesse kinda wishes he'd put his cigar out in his eye after all. He don't think Genji'd forgive him, though. 

Funny thing to think, since he's willing to forgive the man who killed him. 

"I used to run with Deadlock," Jesse says. "You ever heard of them?" 

"They are an American gang," Hanzo says. 

"That's right," Jesse says with an easy nod. "I was pretty good at it. Did a lot of shit I ain't proud of and didn't do much for anybody but myself, but Overwatch took me in anyway." 

"Why are you telling me this?" Hanzo asks, his eyes just barely narrowed. They still don't look a thing like Genji's.

"Because I want you to know this," Jesse says, bracing his hands on the counter and leaning towards him. "Because I want you to know—as a fellow criminal, as somebody else who found himself some redemption in Overwatch—you absolutely do not deserve to be here. Not a fucking bit." 

Hanzo keeps looking at him with those narrowed eyes. Jesse stares back at him steadily, his own face expressionless but everything in him feeling _vicious_. 

Hanzo ain't any tenser than he has been. 

"Details, hm," he says. 

"Details," Jesse agrees, fingers curling against the counter. He wants to put a bullet between this man's eyes, or maybe in his stomach. Somewhere he'd have to feel it, and where it'd be slow. But Genji, again, so he don't. Because Genji. It's a complete sentence. 

"You know nothing," Hanzo says, his lip curling in disdain. Jesse snorts. 

"How much you think I need to know?" he says. "You cut your brother to pieces on somebody else's say-so. Wasn't even _personal_." 

"You know nothing," Hanzo says again. Jesse bares his teeth at him. 

"I know how he felt about it," he says. "I know what he looked like when Mercy brought him in." 

Hanzo's eyes flicker. Maybe he's remembering himself. Jesse can't find it in him to care much either way. He pushes forward off the counter and gets into the other's personal space, and Hanzo stiffens and draws himself up. He ain't in anybody's idea of a defensive stance, though. Whatever he thinks Jesse's about to do to him, he's planning to take it. 

Jesse can think of a lot of things he'd like to do to this man. 

But again—Genji. 

He plants his hands on Hanzo's shoulders and shoves him back against the counter. Hanzo's elbow hits the coffeemaker, but he don't knock it over so who cares. Hanzo stares up at him, his shoulders tight, and don't say a word. 

There's a lot of things he'd like to do to this man. 

"You're a fucking monster," Jesse says, leaning in again; not taking his hands off Hanzo's tight, tight shoulders. 

"I am aware," Hanzo says, and Jesse laughs at him. 

" _Aware_ , huh," he says. "But you're here." 

"Genji—" Hanzo starts, and Jesse shoves him back harder into the counter. It probably hurts. He don't care. 

"You ain't even got the right to say his name," he snaps. Hanzo just keeps looking at him, though something flickers in those cold, cold eyes again. 

"That would be his decision, not yours," he says. 

"The only reason you ain't _dead_ right now is Genji's decisions," Jesse says. 

"I am aware of that as well," Hanzo says, lifting his jaw. Jesse wonders if Genji ever had a tattoo like that one. If there's gray in his hair now too. 

If there's any family resemblance.

He grabs Hanzo by the jaw, and Hanzo's lip curls in disdain again as he yanks out of his grip. Jesse don't care; he grabs him again, tighter, and pins him to the counter with his body. Hanzo makes an outraged noise, like he fucking deserves to be _outraged_ , and tries to shove him off. He's damn strong, but so is this shiny new prosthetic Jesse's got. 

He turns the other's head, trying to tell if there's any ghost of Genji in those proud, arrogant features, but if there is he ain't seeing it. 

Hanzo definitely smells like sake. 

"You reek," Jesse says bluntly. "How much you been drinking?" 

"That is none of your business," Hanzo snaps. 

"So a lot," Jesse says. Hanzo tries to shove him off again, but Jesse's bigger than him and Hanzo ain't being as nasty about breaking the hold as he could be. Maybe he don't wanna cause a fuss. 

Jesse really don't care if they cause a fuss. He pushes harder into Hanzo's body, forcing the other to bend backwards over the counter, and Hanzo puts his hands on his prosthetic and something pushes into his hip in return. He thinks it's a knife or something, for a second. 

It ain't a knife. 

"That an adrenaline thing?" Jesse asks, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Or do you just not get touched much." 

"Let go of me," Hanzo hisses, and Jesse does the stupid thing, like he usually does, and grinds their hips together. Hanzo curses in Japanese, then shoves him off _hard_. Jesse's back hits the island. 

"Guess that answers that," he says casually, lifting a leg to brace against the counter and block Hanzo's line of retreat. Hanzo glares at him. Jesse . . . Jesse feels a bit like he's got something dangerous on a leash, and wants to see what he can get away with doing to it. 

Why not, right? 

Ain't the first time he's done that in his life. 

"Get out of my way," Hanzo says icily. 

"Yeah, I don't really feel like accommodating you," Jesse says, grabbing him by the belt and dragging him towards himself, _hard_. Hanzo curses again as he overbalances right into him, and Jesse laughs nastily and hooks his leg around his back. Hanzo is tense as a wire, hands gripping the counter, and yeah, that definitely ain't a knife he's packing. 

"You're appalling," Hanzo says through gritted teeth, and Jesse laughs again. 

"Look who's fucking talking," he says. Hanzo glares up at him, and Jesse smirks back at him, nasty as he can. He grinds their hips together again. 

"I am not interested in trouble," Hanzo says darkly, grabbing his wrists. Jesse keeps smirking. He ain't exactly concerned about trouble. If somebody walks in on them like this, well, ain't like he's never gotten caught in a compromising position in Overwatch. Ain't even the first time it'd be with a bastard like Hanzo. 

"You're the only trouble I'm seeing 'round here, Shimada," he says. 

"Perhaps you should invest in a mirror, then," Hanzo says. Jesse laughs at him again. If he had Peacekeeper on him . . . 

But never mind that. 

He leans in towards the other, not bothering to try freeing his wrists, and Hanzo bares his teeth at him. There still ain’t much in those eyes of his, but turns out they _can_ burn hot after all. Jesse digs his heel into the back of his thigh and tilts his hips juuust so, and Hanzo growls. 

He could step back, but he don’t. 

So fucking _easy_ , Jesse thinks, and rolls his hips. Hanzo grips his wrists painfully tight—at least, painfully for the right arm—and snaps his teeth at him. He still don’t step back. 

“C’mon, c’mon,” Jesse coaxes, and then they’re both grinding against each other and Hanzo is breathing heavily and gripping his wrists even tighter. The bastard really is _strong_. Jesse wants to slam him into a wall, and not in the fun way. He wants to fucking _hurt_ him. 

This probably ain’t gonna do that, but . . . 

Hanzo bites his shoulder, hips jerking more urgently. Jesse laughs at him, and he growls again. He’s about to come, Jesse’s sure, so he breaks his hands free after all and shoves him off. Hanzo _glares_ at him. 

“Who said you deserved nice things?” Jesse asks lightly, propping his heel up against the counter again. He’s hard, but so’s Hanzo, and he doubts he looks nearly so dishevelled and angry. 

“Do not _mock_ me,” Hanzo snarls, clenching his fists. 

Genji’s said that to him before, Jesse remembers. Usually when Jesse was saying something nice to him. It sounds real different, coming from Hanzo. 

“You're such a fucking bastard,” he says, and Hanzo shoves in close again and Jesse lets him. He pulls the other's belt apart and pushes his sleeve off his shoulder and hates, hates, _hates_ how few scars the man has. Compared to Genji, he might as well have none at all. 

Hanzo knocks his hat off and pulls his shirt open. Jesse yanks out his ponytail and tangles his fingers in his hair. Hanzo pushes into him and he grunts, and then they're rutting against each other like fucking dogs or something again and Jesse still wants to kill him and ain't entirely sure Genji's gonna forgive _this_ either. 

Well, it takes two to tango, Jesse figures. 

Hanzo is panting. It don't sound anything like Genji panting does. He ain't a thing like Genji at all. 

Was he expecting him to be? Why would he have expected a damn fool thing like that? 

Hanzo grunts, low and dirty. Jesse leans in and bites his ear, digging his nails into his back the best he can through his glove. He wants to scratch him up. He wants to see him fucking _bleed_ , even if only a little. 

Or a lot, maybe. 

Hanzo grunts again, then gasps. He puts all his weight against Jesse, body shuddering, and it don't take much smarts to realize he's coming. He don't yell or nothing, but he ain't subtle about it. 

"Couldn't even wait to get your pants off?" Jesse snorts. Hanzo bares his teeth at him, still breathing heavily. 

"Shut up," he bites off. That's a thing Jesse's heard a lot from Genji too. 

"Yeah, no," Jesse says, reaching down to palm himself lazily and debating if he actually wants to get off. Considering who it's with . . . 

Mm, yeah. Not really feeling it, no. 

"Shut up," Hanzo says again, and hits his knees. 

. . . Jesse's listening. 

"What do you think you're doing?" he says, looking down at him. Hanzo looks unimpressed. 

"Figure it out, cowboy," he says, going for Jesse's belt. 

"You about to bite me?" Jesse says. 

"Yes," Hanzo says dubiously, wrapping his fingers around his cock and giving it a stroke. Jesse's a little surprised, to be honest. He wouldn't have expected this. 

Don't mean he's gonna be nice about it, though. 

"You got a condom?" he asks. "I don't know where you been." 

"I assumed you would," Hanzo says, which—fair enough, really, because Jesse's actually got a couple on him. It's been a little while since he last got any but a fugitive never knows where he'll be sleeping next. He pulls one out of his wallet and hands it over all nice and proper, and Hanzo tears it open and puts it on him, just as nice and proper himself. 

It's funny, kinda. 

"Well, at least you thought of something smart to do with that mouth," Jesse says, dragging his fingers through Hanzo's hair again and fisting his hand in it. Hanzo sneers up at him, then swallows him down like there ain't any contradiction in that at all. Jesse might point that out, but he's a bit busy groaning. 

Maybe this would be slightly more awkward for somebody to walk in on, but then again, who the hell cares. 

"Damn," he grunts. Hanzo ain't especially good at sucking cock, like maybe he ain’t done it much or it’s just been a while since he has, but Jesse's gotta admit he puts in the effort. He really _is_ half expecting the bastard to bite him, but so far there ain’t no sign of that. Hanzo seems a whole lot more concerned with making him come than anything else. 

Well, _he_ ain’t gonna complain about that. 

“Harder,” he says, yanking the other’s hair. Hanzo groans around his cock, which is . . . which is a whole thing, definitely. Jesse jerks his hips forward into the other's mouth and Hanzo takes him easy and greedy and without missing a beat. Maybe he likes it rough. Jesse is certainly willing to supply, in that case. 

Not that Hanzo deserves anything he likes. 

Jesse tightens his grip on Hanzo's hair and fucks his mouth, and Hanzo grips his thighs and makes some _damn_ fine noises about it. Jesse wants to grab onto him with both hands but he ain't really interested in finding out if the prosthetic is gonna be an issue there so he don't. Untangling that mess don't sound like the _best_ time he could be having right now. 

He could probably think of a few things better than fucking Hanzo's mouth, too, but he's willing to settle this time. 

"Fucking hell, ain't you a mess," he says, and Hanzo looks up at him with heavy, hazy eyes and disheveled hair and swallows around him. Jesse curses viciously and yanks his hair again, which gets him another moan vibrating around his cock. It'd be awful easy to come, but he don't want to let Hanzo have nothing easy. 

And if the other likes it a bit rough—well, he's still all for that. He grips Hanzo's jaw with his prosthetic and squeezes just tight enough that he gets warning feedback from it, and hopes it'll bruise real obvious. Hanzo lets his cock slip out of his mouth, panting, and bares his teeth at him. Jesse turns his head from side to side and still can't see anything like Genji in him. 

"You're shit at that," he says, and pushes his cock against Hanzo's cheek, leaving a trail of spit behind. 

"Then do it to yourself," Hanzo says irritably, turning away. Jesse snorts. It ain't a laugh, exactly, but it's close enough. 

"I want to come on your face," he muses, more a realization than a statement. Hanzo glares up at him, looking like he'd like to spit. 

He don't say "no". 

"Yeah, I'm gonna do that," Jesse says, and pulls off his glove with his teeth so he can take off the condom and wrap his free hand around his dick. He don't let go of Hanzo's face; Hanzo don't pull back. He drops the condom on the floor, not really caring—he'll clean up later—and strokes himself. 

It's easy to come, just like he expected, and it don't take more than a few strokes before he is. He grits his teeth around a groan, and Hanzo grimaces, and Jesse admires the sight of his come dripping all over that pretty face and his own prosthetic, shiny and wet. 

It's a pretty sight. 

"Didn't you sit still all nice for me," he says mock-admiringly, pushing a metal thumb through the come on Hanzo's jaw, and Hanzo tenses again and gives him another glare. Jesse lets go of his face and licks his hand clean. Hanzo gets to his feet and grabs a paper towel off the counter to scrub his face. Jesse don't bother telling him he missed a spot. He throws out the condom, figuring he'll just give the kitchen a quick scrub-down once Hanzo leaves—for sanitation's sake and all, and politeness's. 

Hanzo wipes at his face one last time, still missing that spot, and Jesse fixes his pants and lights a new cigar. Hanzo glowers at him. Jesse raises an eyebrow in return. 

"Yeah?" he says. Hanzo keeps on glowering. 

"This was a mistake," he says, his voice a bit raspy, presumably from Jesse sticking his dick halfway down his throat. Jesse thinks about cracking his head open against the counter again. 

"Ain't the first time I heard that one from a Shimada," he drawls instead. Hanzo . . . frowns, slowly. Jesse waits for him to make the obvious connection, but he don't seem to. 

"You are unbearable," he says. 

"Damn, and we ain't even fucked proper," Jesse says, ashing his cigar. He does idly wonder what Hanzo would act like with a dick in him instead if that stick up his ass. Or his dick in somebody else; Jesse ain't the picky type. He's got no intention of touching the asshole enough to find out, though. 

"And we will not," Hanzo says, his lip curling as he pulls his shirt back up and reties his belt. Jesse is frankly impressed by how quick that bit of disdain makes him change his mind about things. 

"Yeah, you wouldn't last long enough to be worth the effort anyway," he says with a meaningful smirk, and Hanzo narrows his eyes at him. 

"I am not that easily baited," he says. 

"Sure," Jesse says, blowing smoke at him. Hanzo don't so much as cough, which just fucking figures. 

"You talk too much," he says. Jesse raises an eyebrow at him again. He could button up his shirt, but he don't. 

If Hanzo says one more thing Genji's said to him, he might fucking _scream_. 

"You sound just like him," he says, hoping it bites him, somewhere. Hanzo's expression darkens. 

"Do not compare me to my brother," he says icily, stepping in close again and bristling all over. Jesse grins, nice and nasty as he can. 

"Ain't much competition, far as I can see," he says. Hanzo narrows his eyes at him yet again and pushes him back against the counter. Jesse lets him, still grinning. "Mm?" 

"You will regret this," Hanzo says. 

"You'd be the expert, I suppose," Jesse says. 

Hanzo growls, and shoves his shirt down around his elbows. Jesse lets him. Hanzo bites his throat, and Jesse lets him do that too. He shoves a thigh between his knees just a bit too hard and Jesse huffs out a breath, setting aside his cigar so he can grip his arms. They're perfectly symmetrical, he can't help but notice. 

Nothing like Genji's, he means. 

"Eager, ain't you," he says. Hanzo's already undoing his belt, but still takes the time to give him a nasty look for it. 

"You are the one asking for it," he says, and yeah, Jesse figures, that probably is how it looks. 

"Sure," he says. Hanzo takes off his shirt, revealing perfect unscarred skin. Jesse bares his teeth in a grin, or something like one, and slams into him to shove him back against the opposite counter. Hanzo snarls, grabbing onto him and digging his nails in. They struggle, and Jesse ain't sure if they're about to fight or fuck. Could go either way, far as he's concerned. 

Hanzo grunts in pain. Jesse bites his neck. They grapple senselessly, pointlessly, and nearly knock each other over. Jesse puts his hand down the back of Hanzo's pants and digs his nails into his ass. Hanzo grabs his cock and squeezes. 

"Hurry up," Hanzo growls, like he's fucking lagging or something. Jesse laughs at him. 

"Oughta fucking kill you," he says. 

"Try harder, then," Hanzo says. Jesse laughs at him again and lifts him up against the counter, dropping his ass on the countertop. Hanzo hisses. 

"Pants," Jesse says, tugging meaningfully at them, and Hanzo lifts his hips just enough to let him drag them down. The other's boots are a bit more complicated, but he figures them out. 

"Hurry _up_ ," Hanzo snaps. Jesse wonders how long it's been since anyone touched the bastard. 

"Be patient," he says, pulling out his wallet for another condom and the little packet of lube he keeps with them. Hanzo growls at him, reeling him in close. Jesse leaves the condom on the counter and gets his fingers all slicked up. 

Hanzo spreads his legs. Jesse works one finger into him immediately and Hanzo hisses as he pushes in another, knocking his head back against the cupboards. Jesse ain't as careful as he'd be with someone else, for all the obvious reasons. Hanzo don't ask him to be. 

Jesse stretches him out, quick and dirty, and Hanzo gasps for breath and pushes into him. Jesse's rough about it, again for obvious reasons, and Hanzo still don't complain. Jesse wouldn't much care if he were, honestly, but he ain't an absolute bastard, he'd listen. 

And then he'd fuck the man stupid, of course, just like he's about to. 

"You'd better not be a screamer," he says, reclaiming his fingers and reaching for the condom. Hanzo is still panting, but still manages to glare at him as he's rolling the thing on. "Don't give me that look, asshole, you want Winston walking in on this?" 

"Get _in_ me," Hanzo growls, dragging him forwards. Jesse figures alright, he warned him, and shoves his dick in. Hanzo _curses_. 

"You like that?" Jesse manages, grinning nastily, and Hanzo wraps his legs around his waist and _squeezes_.

_"Harder,"'_ he snarls. 

Never let it be said Jesse ain't attentive. He fucks into the other roughly, and Hanzo starts cursing again and immediately scratches up his back. Jesse’ll live with it, under the circumstances. Hanzo digs his nails in _hard_ and Jesse thrusts harder. 

It’s the obvious thing to do, he figures. 

“Ah, ah, ah—” Hanzo pants, and Jesse bites his throat and wraps his hand around his dick and _fucks_ him. _“Fuck!”_

“Sounds about right,” Jesse says breathlessly, twisting his hand around the other’s cock; shifting his hips into a better angle. Hanzo claws at his back, moves his hips into his, and _moans_ , low and ragged and over and over. “Thought you weren’t that easy to bait? Or did you just want fucked that bad? You needed somebody’s dick in you that much?” 

“Be quiet,” Hanzo hisses, putting a hand over his mouth. Jesse bites it, and Hanzo curses in pain and shakes it out. 

“Seems like you did, since this is the second time I’ve managed it already,” Jesse says, thrusting deeper to make Hanzo keep up the cursing. “Maybe I just shoulda gotten you on your knees first I saw you. Bet we’d be getting along a lot better.” 

“I have no interest in getting along with you,” Hanzo spits, grabbing his hair. Jesse presses into him, hoping the edge of the cupboard’s cutting into his shoulders. 

“Tell that to my dick, Shimada,” he says, and makes a point of delivering another deeper thrust. Hanzo jerks violently, then snarls. It’s so easy to make him feel things, and there are no parts of himself he won’t look at. Jesse’s gonna remember that the next time Genji won’t take his mask off. 

Genji says he’s made peace with what he is, and maybe he has, but that don’t change the fact he’s even more armored up than he used to be and showing even less of his face. 

Hanzo yanks his hair and claws at his back. Jesse fucks him harder, again and still. It ain’t difficult, and there’s no triggers to watch out for—no scars he shouldn’t touch, no body parts there’s no _point_ in touching, no places Hanzo won’t touch himself and nothing about his body to be ashamed of. 

It never mattered to Jesse that Genji had scars and prosthetics and places he couldn’t bring himself to touch and things he couldn’t bring himself to do, never bothered him that the other couldn’t even bring himself to say when something felt good. 

But it mattered to Genji, he knows. It bothered _him_. 

It’s hard to forget that when Hanzo’s right here and not struggling with a single damn thing. When it’s so fucking _easy_ for him, and always has been. He ain’t hurting like Genji has, he ain’t feeling any of what Genji’s felt, he don’t even deserve to feel _anything_. He don’t even deserve to _breathe_ , he don’t deserve to be safe, he don’t deserve a single fucking—

“McCree, _McCree_ ,” Hanzo says, exactly the same way Genji's always said it, and Jesse feels real, real cold. 

They’d sound just alike, if Genji didn’t need the synthesizer to talk. 

“You really do sound just like him,” Jesse says distantly, putting his prosthetic around Hanzo’s throat. He don’t squeeze, but he thinks real hard about it. Hanzo don’t try to pull back, not that he’s really got the room to. Jesse thinks real, _real_ hard about squeezing. Crushing his windpipe. Taking that easy voice away from him, so the other feels just a little bit of what Genji’s been feeling all this time. So every time he so much as says a word, he _remembers_. 

Hanzo groans. Jesse lets go of his dick, but keeps fucking him. Hard, deep thrusts, over and over and over. He don’t feel connected enough to his body to come, but Hanzo looks pretty close to it. 

“Feels good, right?” Jesse says lowly. “You know how hard it is to make Genji feel good?” 

“I said do not compare me to my brother,” Hanzo grunts out, and Jesse bares his teeth at him, thrusts deeper, feels cold, cold, _cold_. 

“There ain’t no comparison,” he says. “He’s a bastard and a killer and a fucking wreck. And he’s a thousand times better a man than you’ll ever be.” 

“I know that,” Hanzo says, and so obviously does. 

Jesse wants him to fucking _hurt_ , though. 

“You got a real pretty face, Shimada,” he says, tracing the back of his prosthetic gently along the other’s jaw. He can’t feel much through it, just some faint pressure, but obviously Hanzo don’t have that problem. He ain’t wearing a mask, after all. “Makes me wonder if it runs in the family.” 

Hanzo twitches. Jesse puts his thumb against the other’s bottom lip. 

“I wouldn’t know, you see, ‘cause Genji never takes that fucking mask off,” he says, tone nearly conversational. “I’ve known him since you killed him and I ain’t seen his face even once, no matter what was going on.” 

“McCree,” Hanzo says tightly, and it still sounds exactly like it does when Genji says it. Jesse snaps his hips in, buries himself in the other to the root, and Hanzo gasps, clawing at his back again. 

“He barely even takes the _armor_ off,” Jesse says, and keeps fucking him through it. It ain’t even hard. Hanzo’s making rough, aching noises, his hands fisting against Jesse’s back and hips moving into him. He don’t try to shove him off or pull away. “Did he have tattoos too? Were they as pretty as yours?” 

“McCree,” Hanzo says thinly. Jesse figures that means he’s figured out that saying his name makes him get rougher, because that is definitely what it does. Hanzo don’t deserve anything he wants or likes, but Hanzo _does_ deserve to hurt, so . . . 

There’s a line somewhere in there, but Jesse ain’t too worried about the particulars of it. 

“He’s gorgeous, you know,” he says. “Despite your best efforts to the contrary. Most gorgeous thing I ever saw. And you’re a real handsome man, I’m sure you know, but that’s just your face. If it comes to it you might be the ugliest bastard I ever met.” 

Hanzo’s looking at him again, biting back harsh little noises. He don’t look like nothing hurts; he looks fucking _expectant_ , almost. Jesse—well, he’s willing to provide what he expects. It’s the least of what Hanzo deserves, after all. 

“I must’ve saved his life a dozen times in the field and he could barely trust me enough to turn his back on me,” he says, gripping the other’s hips roughly. “Could barely trust a one of us, all the way down to the last man standing.” 

“I did my duty,” Hanzo manages to get out, and Jesse fucking _laughs_. 

It’s gotta be on purpose, he thinks. Ain’t no way Hanzo would say something like that unless he _wanted_ hurt. 

“Your _duty_ ,” Jesse sneers, and Hanzo flinches. Jesse ain’t got a brother; ain’t ever had family like that. He knows what it’s supposed to mean, though. 

Knows what it meant to Genji, more specifically. 

“He brought it on himself,” Hanzo says, voice and face both blank. Jesse could fucking _kill_ him. 

“Really?” he says with another sharp laugh. “Couldn’t just stab him in the back, though, you had to fucking _ruin_ him. He’s gotta live with what you did every day, and you just . . . what, you moved on? You were gonna forget?” 

“I did not _forget_ ,” Hanzo hisses, his eyes flaring and his nails digging into his back again. “I could never forget.” 

“News to me, you piece of shit,” Jesse says, weighing him back heavier against the cupboards, pinning him there and hoping it hurts. “You can’t ever make up for what you did.” 

“I know,” Hanzo says tightly, and Jesse fucks him, and fucks him, and _fucks_ him— 

Hanzo comes all over his stomach, shaking and cursing, and Jesse don’t feel a fucking thing. He could stop fucking him, probably, but he don’t. Hanzo keeps shaking, keeps cursing, and Jesse can’t find any mercy in himself. He fucking _jackhammers_ into the other, hard enough to rattle the cupboards and not caring how it feels for him, and Hanzo clings to him tight as anything and moans so loud that somebody could probably hear him all the way down the hall. 

Jesse really don’t care. Hanzo wants hurt? He’ll hurt him all he likes. Hanzo thinks he _deserves_ hurt? 

He does. 

“You don’t belong here,” Jesse spits, and Hanzo nods helplessly against the cupboard and clings to him even tighter, like he’s something to hold onto, like there’s some kind of lifeline there. Jesse ain’t that. Not for him. He bites down high on the other’s neck and digs his teeth in, determined to mark him up, determined to make him _remember_ this every time he glances in the mirror or feels a phantom ache. Remember what he’s worth, and how it ain’t even a scrap of _nothing_ next to what Genji is. 

Jesse ain’t sure he’s ever hated anybody quite as personally as he hates Hanzo Shimada. Maybe whoever blew up Overwatch, but that’s it. 

He wants to fucking _destroy_ this man. 

He comes feeling like he’s been punched in the gut, and stops thrusting. Hanzo makes a weird little noise of loss, which Jesse really does almost kill him for. Hanzo puts his hands on his face and turns it towards his own and leans in to—

Jesse jerks back. 

“No,” he says sharply. “Can’t kiss Genji. Sure as _hell_ ain’t gonna kiss you.” 

Hanzo . . . pauses, just for a moment, and then lets go of his face. His own is blank, those eyes as cold and dead as ever despite his flushed skin and sticky stomach. Jesse wants to hurt him a lot worse than he has, but can’t quite figure out where else to get a knife in. 

“‘Can’t’?” Hanzo says carefully. 

“I told you the fucking mask don’t come off,” Jesse says, pulling back from him altogether. Hanzo gets a very strange look on his face. He opens his mouth for a moment, like he’s gonna say something, but he don’t say a word. 

“You have slept with him before,” Hanzo says finally, like it’s only properly occuring to him now. The man ain’t _stupid_ , Jesse knows, but that seems like a pretty stupid oversight. 

“You missed that?” he says as he throws away the condom and fixes his pants. He don’t pass Hanzo the paper towels or do anything like that. Fucker can grab them himself, far as he’s concerned. “Get off the counter, I need to clean up in here.” 

“Mm.” Hanzo gets down, carefully, and winces. Good. Jesse hopes he’s sore for fucking _days_ , and especially hopes Winston wants him in the training room tomorrow. He puts on his shirt and watches Hanzo clean himself up and redress, mostly just to see him wince again, and then grabs the paper towels and digs out the disinfectant spray. Far as he’s concerned, this interaction is over. 

Hanzo hovers. Jesse resists the urge to sigh. 

“What do you want?” he says irritably. He ain’t ever been irritable after an orgasm before, but Hanzo clearly brings it out in him. 

“I am not going to leave Overwatch,” Hanzo says. 

“I did not, as a matter of fact, think we’d be so lucky,” Jesse says, spraying down the counter where the other was sitting. “I ain’t gonna start liking you, neither.” 

“I would not expect you to,” Hanzo says, shaking his head. "No one should." 

"At least you're self-aware, I guess," Jesse says dubiously, not particularly impressed. 

"I did what I did. There is no changing that," Hanzo says. For somebody who don't think anybody oughta like him, he sure is determined to explain himself. 

“I am intimately aware of that fact,” Jesse says, wiping down the counter. Maybe if he ignores him, he’ll go away. “As is Genji, I am _damned_ sure.” 

“Mm.” Hanzo looks at him for a long moment, then turns to leave. Jesse resists the urge to toss some sharp little barb after him, mostly because he can’t think of a good enough one. 

Ain’t much that would be good enough, he figures. 

He wonders what time Genji’s going to get up, and if it’s worth staying up to catch him.


	3. Chapter 3

Jesse ain’t entirely sure how this situation came about, but Genji and Hanzo seem to have worked something out between them. 

“I miss something?” he asks warily, looking down at them. They’re seated on either end of his bed with plenty of room left between them for, say, another full-grown man. 

“Nothing in particular,” Genji says in that new pleasant voice he has, which Jesse still ain’t used to at all. 

“Nothing in particular,” Hanzo says at the same time, sounding as grim as ever. Jesse could get whiplash, between the two of them. 

“So the both of you are here because . . .” He trails off questioningly, tipping his hat back on his head. 

“I missed you,” Genji says simply, which stabs right through Jesse’s heart. 

“I missed you too, darlin’,” he says, the answer immediate and automatic. He’s been looking for an excuse to pull Genji aside for days now, ever since he got to base to begin with. It don’t explain _Hanzo_ being here, though. “Pretty sure Hanzo didn’t, though, so . . .?” 

Genji and Hanzo look at each other, then back to him. If Hanzo actually read anything off Genji with his face all masked and visored, who knows. Jesse raises his eyebrows, waiting for whichever one of them’s gonna answer him to speak. 

“You and Hanzo had sex,” Genji says. 

“I know,” Jesse says. Hanzo’s still got the bruises, and he’s still got the scratches. “I was there.” 

“Why?” Genji says. 

“Because it was that or kill him, and for some God-unknown reason you don’t want him dead,” Jesse says, not really sure which way this is going. It occurs to him, belatedly, that maybe Genji is not thrilled with him about the whole Hanzo thing. It wasn’t exactly the _nicest_ thing he’s ever done. 

“I am fairly certain there were other options,” Hanzo says dubiously. Jesse snorts at him. 

“You’re the one who started it,” he says. “Don’t go blaming me.” 

“I cannot say I remember it happening that way,” Hanzo says. Jesse scowls at him. It sure as shit wasn’t _him_ who got hard first. 

“You liked it?” Genji says. 

“I don’t like a damn thing about him,” Jesse says. Genji tilts his head, then stands up. He puts his hands on Jesse’s chest. Jesse immediately ain’t paying attention to anything else in the room, or anyone. 

“I really have missed you,” Genji says. He tilts his head again in a real familiar way, and Jesse recognizes the silent request in it and leans down to kiss his mask. Genji hums quietly, pushing his hands up to his shoulders and then wrapping his arms around his neck. Jesse puts his own hands on his hips, feeling out the unfamiliar armor there. 

“Genji,” Jesse says, and it comes out a bit more tender than he means to make it. It’s been a long, long time, though. For a while in there, he’d thought he’d never see him again. 

“Come to bed,” Genji says, taking his hands in his own and tugging lightly. Jesse follows, of course. Genji pulls him to the bed, obviously, and sits back down. Jesse follows him, and ends up sitting between him and Hanzo. It’s . . . a place that he is sitting, alright. 

“You do realize this is a mite suggestive, as a situation,” he says, glancing between them. 

“Is it?” Genji tilts his head again. It takes Jesse a moment to realize he’s _teasing_ , and that . . . that really does stab right through him. He can’t think of a single time he ever saw Genji do that to anyone. 

“You been changing when I wasn’t looking,” he says. Genji squeezes his hands, then shifts his weight to look at Hanzo. 

“Well?” he says. Hanzo scowls. Jesse eyes him warily. 

“Fine,” Hanzo says, then leans in and puts a hand on Jesse’s thigh. Jesse . . . reserves judgement, for the moment. 

“Fine?” he says suspiciously. 

“Hanzo is going to do me a favor,” Genji says, leaning in too and gently guiding Jesse’s hands back to his hips. 

“What kind of—” Jesse starts to ask, and then Hanzo’s on his knees in front of him and, well, that’s pretty clear, as an explanation. “Oh.” 

“Yes. Oh,” Genji agrees. He wraps his arms around Jesse’s neck again and pushes up onto his knees to press in against his side, and Jesse looks over at him and ain’t sure what to think. This is not the reaction he would’ve expected to this situation, if he’d thought Genji would have an actual notable reaction to this situation. 

Hanzo unzips him. Jesse kind of just . . . goes with it, he guesses. 

“You got a condom this time?” he asks. 

“Yes,” Hanzo says, holding one up in demonstration and then wrapping his other hand around Jesse’s cock. He ain’t even half hard but those strong, calloused fingers don’t gotta do much work to get him with the program, put it that way. Jesse still ain’t really sure what to think here, but his dick ain’t too concerned about that problem. 

So Hanzo gets him hard and gets the condom on him, but Jesse’s really only looking at Genji, trying to recognize the other’s body language in this upgraded body. It ain’t easy, but he’s willing to put in the work. 

Hanzo licks his cock, Jesse hisses a bit, and Genji puts his hands on his face and strokes it gently. Jesse really, _really_ ain’t sure what to think. 

“Genji . . .” he starts slowly. Hanzo swallows him down, and he hisses again. Genji takes his hat off for him and smooths a hand back over his hair. Jesse watches him, trying to figure this out. This ain’t the _most_ normal thing he’s ever done in bed, but . . . 

“You are so lovely,” Genji says, and Jesse’s more than a bit overwhelmed. Hearing Genji say something like that is just so different he can hardly wrap his head around it, and the fact Hanzo’s sucking him off ain’t exactly helping him concentrate. “Does it feel good?” 

“Sure,” Jesse says, because it’s a damn blowjob, of course it feels good, even if it _is_ coming from Hanzo, the literal scum of the earth, and Genji hums and tilts his head. 

“Good,” he says, trailing a finger along the line of Jesse’s jaw. “You look so good like this. I like it.” 

“Ngh,” Jesse manages hoarsely, which might’ve been a word at some point but clearly does not manage to come out as one. Forgive him, but Genji just said he _liked_ something. In cold _blood_ , even. 

“I like it a _lot_ ,” Genji says, smoothing his hair back off his face, and Jesse shudders roughly. Hanzo works his mouth around him and he still ain’t particularly talented in the area of cocksucking but, again, is definitely putting in the effort. Jesse pushes into his mouth unthinkingly, and Genji makes a soft noise. If Jesse closed his eyes . . . 

He ain’t gonna, but he could. That’s all. 

“Genji, darlin’, you’re gonna kill me,” he says. He puts a hand in Hanzo’s hair, pulling out the scarf holding it back so he can actually tangle his fingers in it proper. Genji makes that soft noise again and strokes a hand down his chest. It is real, real distracting. 

“Never,” Genji says, stroking his chest again as Hanzo bobs his head. Jesse curses thickly, yanking Hanzo’s hair, and Hanzo groans, pushing his hands up his thighs. “You can move, you know.” 

“Nnn,” Jesse says, and really can’t _not_ after that. He snaps his hips up into Hanzo’s mouth and Hanzo nearly chokes, and Jesse almost feels bad but, well, it’s _Hanzo_. He don’t actually wanna hurt the guy, though, so he’s a little more careful with his next thrust. Hanzo swallows him down roughly and _sucks_ , and Jesse curses again. He could close his eyes, again, but he still don’t. 

“Just like that,” Genji coaxes, and Jesse turns to look at him and struggles to breathe evenly. It ain’t the face he’s expecting—ain't the _mask_ he’s expecting—but it’s Genji all the same. He wants to put his hands all over him, but he’s a bit occupied at the moment. He slides one up the other’s back, at least, and Genji arches sweetly under the contact and strokes his face again. “It is so good to see you again. You are even better than I remembered.” 

_“Nnn,”_ Jesse says, and comes more from what Genji’s saying than from what Hanzo’s mouth is doing, which ain’t a surprise, really. Hanzo grunts and Genji makes that soft, soft noise and Jesse really could die, he thinks, but settles for laying his head on Genji’s shoulder and trying to remember how to breathe right. 

“Did you like it?” Genji asks, brushing a gentle hand over his face. Jesse really don’t know how to respond. 

“I like everything you do,” he says finally, and Genji hums quietly, his lights pulsing briefly. Hanzo huffs in annoyance, or something that at least sounds like annoyance, pulling the condom off to throw away. 

“Good,” Genji says, still stroking his face. It’s the gentlest Jesse can ever remember him being, and he don’t know what to do with it. “I am glad.” 

“Glad to hear it,” he says, and kisses the other’s mask again. Genji hums sweetly, tilting into the contact for a moment, then leans back. 

“Hanzo,” he says. 

“He will not kiss me,” Hanzo says, shaking his head, and for a moment Jesse cannot _imagine_ why Genji would think he would, except—

“Wait,” he says, like the idiot he is. “Did you just get him to suck me off because you can’t? And you want him to _kiss_ me because you can’t?” 

“I thought you would enjoy it more,” Genji says, and Jesse’s heart about fucking _breaks_. 

“I like _you_ ,” he says. “Nothing else matters.” 

“You slept with Hanzo,” Genji says, sounding momentarily uncertain. 

“I fucked Hanzo,” Jesse corrects immediately. “We did _not_ have a good time together, for the record.” 

“We did not,” Hanzo confirms sourly, rubbing at his jaw. Jesse still hates the guy, but hates him slightly less for a moment. 

“But it was—easier, was it not?” Genji says, putting his hands in his lap, and now Jesse hates _himself_. 

“Who cares?” he says, grabbing the other’s hands to squeeze them tight. Genji squeezes back, hesitantly, and Jesse _really_ hates himself. “Genji, you gotta know I’d pick you over anybody. Nobody compares to you.” 

“It has been years,” Genji says. 

“I do not give the slightest damn,” Jesse says. 

“I thought . . .” Genji hesitates again, then shakes his head. “I thought it would be better, if it were . . . to give you something easier.” 

“It is not,” Jesse says. “Not even remotely.” 

“You did not tell me you were together,” Hanzo says, his eyes flickering between them. Again, Jesse hates him _slightly_ less, but only for the moment. 

“We are not,” Genji says distantly. “Were not. We just . . .” 

“We were whatever you want,” Jesse says firmly. “We _are_ whatever you want. I don’t need nothing else.” 

“I cannot—” Genji starts, and Jesse squeezes his hands tighter. “I am not . . . whole.” 

“Did you like what we used to do?” Jesse asks. “Because I loved it. All of it. That’s more than enough for me.” 

“I am not whole,” Genji says again. Jesse presses a kiss to his forehead, pulling his hands to himself, and then kisses both sets of his knuckles. He can’t see even Genji’s eyes anymore, so he’s got nothing to go off here, but . . . 

“I know,” he says. “I know it makes you crazy. I know I can’t make it better. But you’re _plenty_ enough for me.” 

“How _can_ I be?” Genji says. “I cannot even kiss you.” 

“That don’t matter none to me,” Jesse says. 

“It matters to _me_ ,” Genji says, reaching up and touching his mask. 

“I know. Really, I do,” Jesse says, and _despises_ Hanzo. “I’m so sorry.” 

Genji turns his head away from him. Not towards Hanzo, but the wall. Jesse throws a vicious glare back over his shoulder at Hanzo, because of goddamn course he does. Hanzo’s face is blank. He don’t say nothing, the useless bastard. 

“Genji,” Jesse says, looking back to him, and Genji looks back to him too. Jesse kisses his knuckles again. “I got you, okay? Whatever else. I’m right here.” 

“You should have someone who can kiss you,” Genji says, taking his hands back. 

“You should have someone who feels how I do about you,” Jesse says. He pushes into Genji’s personal space, and Genji lets him. 

“McCree . . .” he says, the exact same way he's always said it, and Jesse cracks a weak smile. 

"You can really, _really_ call me Jesse," he says. 

"Jesse," Genji says, and sounds like nothing else. Jesse kisses his mask; Genji puts a hand on his face. Jesse wants to do something that'll prove it don't matter how much body Genji has left under the prosthetics or what his face looks like, but can't think of anything that'd do it. Zenyatta's been telling him _something_ but apparently whatever that was don't translate to this kind of thing. Or maybe this is just a little too much vulnerability, and Genji can't help going back to old thoughts for it. 

"Genji," Jesse says. "I got you. I'm here." 

"Mm." Genji looks at the wall again, still touching his face. Jesse puts a hand over the back of his. He thinks about telling Hanzo to fuck off, but he's more concerned with Genji. 

He don't know what to do here. 

"I should leave," Hanzo says, standing up. At least he ain't stupid, Jesse thinks. 

"I will come with you," Genji says, turning away from the wall again. "I am being—foolish. I should go." 

"That is the opposite of what I want," Jesse says, and can't help glaring at Hanzo. This is what Hanzo _did_. This is on him. Fucker can't even do anything about it. 

"I am being difficult again," Genji says. 

"If he does not care, why should you?" Hanzo says before Jesse can speak. Genji looks up at him, and Jesse wonders how much of him's still a kid looking up to his big brother. He knows how much Genji's hated the bastard, but he's got no clue how much he might love him. 

"You do not understand," Genji says, dropping his hand away from Jesse's face.

"I do not," Hanzo agrees. 

"It's your damn fault, so you oughta," Jesse says. 

"Jesse . . ." Genji starts. Jesse puts his hands on his shoulders. 

"I mean it. You _know_ that," he stresses. "Don't feel bad about what you think's wrong with you. It ain't none of it on you." 

"I . . ." Genji trails off. Jesse wishes he could see his eyes. He misses them. "It should be easier." 

"You always wanted things to be easy," Hanzo says neutrally.

"And you always made them hard," Genji says. "Hanzo." 

"I will not claim I did not," Hanzo says, folding his arms. Genji looks up at him silently. "You are the one making this difficult, however." 

"It _is_ difficult," Genji says, just a trace of stress in his voice. "You have no idea what it is like, living in this body." 

"I do not," Hanzo agrees, inclining his head. 

"So do not tell me what is _difficult_!" Genji snaps. "You do not have to worry about every little thing you eat or spend half your life in a lab or perform _maintenance_ on any of it!" 

Hanzo don't say anything. Jesse takes one of Genji's hands tightly in his own, but Genji don't seem to notice. 

"I have forgiven you," he says. "But that does not make this easy for me." 

"You should not have forgiven me," Hanzo says. 

"That was my choice," Genji says. "I did not have to forgive you. I chose to." 

"You have always done foolish things like that," Hanzo says. 

"Are you even fucking _sorry_?" Jesse asks incredulously. Hanzo didn't ask to be forgiven, far as he knows. Definitely didn't do nothing to _earn_ being forgiven. Genji just gave it to him, free and clear. 

"It would not matter if I was," Hanzo says. "Nothing can undo what I did." 

"I'm pretty sure we all know that, yeah!" Jesse says. "That don't mean you can't express some goddamn _remorse_!" 

"Nothing can undo what I did," Hanzo repeats, his face perfectly blank. Jesse could fucking punch him. Or kill him. Or punch him and _then_ kill him. He thinks about it, real longingly. 

"I do not need his remorse," Genji says. "He is right. It would do nothing." 

"It'd mean he gave a fuck, at least," Jesse says darkly. That too much to ask, now? 

They're family, and even if that don't matter to Hanzo, it matters to Genji. Some fucking remorse is the least of what Hanzo could offer. 

"Jesse," Genji says. He puts a hand on Jesse's arm, like _he's_ the one who needs comforted in this situation. "It is alright." 

"You're saying that like you didn't think I'd rather have somebody else," Jesse says. It really ain't alright. It ain't even close. Genji still feels fucked up and wrong, so it can't be. 

"I just thought it would be . . . better," Genji says. 

"It would not," Jesse tells him. "Not even a little." 

"You are . . . very good to me," Genji says quietly. Jesse wants to kiss him, not actually because he wants to kiss him but because Genji so clearly wants to be capable of it. 

"I don't see it that way," Jesse says. Basic decency ain't being "good", it's just basic decency. 

"I know," Genji says, and Jesse leans in and puts his hands on him. Genji wraps his arms around his neck and just sort of . . . holds on. Jesse strokes down his back and Genji makes a quiet noise and Jesse just knocks him over, gently, and pins him to the bed. There's probably better things he could do to make Genji feel better, but damned if he knows what. 

He pushes his mouth into the other's throat and skims his hands up his sides, pretty sure Genji ain't feeling much through the armor, and Genji holds on tighter. Jesse hears Hanzo move towards the door and hears it open, then close again immediately. 

"What is it?" Genji asks breathlessly. 

"Someone is at the end of the hall," Hanzo says. "I would rather not be seen leaving McCree's room at this hour.” 

"We're all adults, Jesus," Jesse says. What a stupid thing to care about. 

"There is no need for people to get the wrong idea," Hanzo says. 

"The idea that you had sex, you mean?" Genji asks wryly. "Or some other entirely accurate idea?" 

Hanzo scowls. Jesse raises an eyebrow at him. 

"You can stick around, but I ain't gonna wait for you to leave," he says, pushing his hands up Genji's sides again. He figures Genji was fine with being in the room while Hanzo sucked him off, so the reverse should hold true. "Darlin’, you're gonna have to tell me how . . . _any_ of this comes off." 

Genji laughs, quietly, and tightens his grip on him again. It sounds kinda sad, which makes Jesse want to touch him even more. 

"You do not have to," Genji says. 

“Trust me, this is a ‘want to’ thing,” Jesse says. “Lemme at you, sweetheart.” 

Genji laughs again in that soft, sad way, and Jesse mouths up his neck and pushes his hands up his thighs. Genji don’t take nothing off or unlatch anything, but Jesse can be patient. If he’s gotta touch him through the armor, well, then he’ll touch him through the armor. Whenever Genji wants to let him in, that’ll be fine by him. If he don’t, then he don’t, and Jesse’ll just wait until the next time. 

“Jesse,” Genji murmurs lowly, and Jesse runs his hands up his stomach and over his chest. Again, he’s sure Genji ain’t feeling much here, but he’s willing to be patient. Especially if it’ll make the other say his name like that. 

Genji always called him “McCree” before, no matter what Jesse said about it, so the fact that he ain’t doing it anymore is . . . 

Yeah, that’s something, alright. 

“I missed you so bad,” he says, because he really, really did and he’s been aching for this chance ever since Recall happened. Jesse’s been aching over a lot of things since Recall happened, but this is one of the few that can be dealt with. He can’t ever make what happened right or get back what and who they lost, but he can touch Genji again. He’s got that. 

_They’ve_ got that, really. 

“I missed you too,” Genji says, cupping his face in his hands and pressing their foreheads together. Jesse could hear him say that a thousand times and still not be satisfied, he thinks. 

“Yeah,” he says, and hears a familiar click. He presses one last kiss to the corner of Genji’s mask, then leans back to see which part of his armor he’s unlatched. Genji reaches down between them without looking and retracts the plate over his crotch, which is a different setup than before, and peels apart the flat black material covering his cock. It’s an upgrade too, from the looks of it, and Jesse wonders if it works any different from before. 

Still fucking lights up, which he _really_ can’t see the point of, but it’s part of Genji and Genji’s letting him at it, so he ain’t complaining. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jesse says, because maybe Genji can stand to hear that kind of thing now, then shifts back on the bed and wraps a hand around the other’s cock to stroke. Genji sighs and tips his head back. Jesse licks his lips. 

Hanzo . . . makes a strange sound. Jesse flicks his eyes over to him, and Hanzo’s looking at Genji’s dick, his eyes just barely widened. Jesse almost says something nasty, something along the lines of _well what did you fucking THINK was gonna be there?_ , but he don’t wanna draw attention to anything Genji’s had issues with. 

“Want you to come in my mouth,” he says instead, and ducks his head to wrap his lips around Genji’s cock. Genji groans, putting his hand in his hair and cupping the side of his face with his prosthetic, and Jesse purrs around him and _sucks_. Genji makes a strangled sound, pushing his head back into the mattress, and Jesse bobs his head and rolls his tongue up tight. 

He’s aware of Hanzo’s eyes on them, but he don’t really care. All he wants to do right now is take care of Genji like the other deserves, and nothing else really matters. Hanzo can watch or not watch, and Jesse ain’t gonna do a damn thing different. 

Genji moans, and Jesse lets him into his throat and swallows around him, and Genji _chokes_. His fingers dig into Jesse’s face and hair and it feels good, makes Jesse feel like he’s doing this right. Or at least, like he’s doing the most he can be. He wants to make Genji feel as good as he possibly can. 

“You are staring,” Genji rasps. Hanzo sits down on the edge of the bed, the fucking creep. Jesse ignores him to swallow around Genji again. 

“I did not know the damage was that bad,” Hanzo says stiffly. 

“It was,” Genji says, like this is a totally normal time to be having this conversation. He pushes his hips up into Jesse’s mouth, and Jesse sucks harder in response. How the hell could Hanzo not know how bad the damage was, he wonders; he fucking _did_ it. 

“I did not realize,” Hanzo says. 

“You cut me apart,” Genji says, stroking gently through Jesse’s hair. “Of course it was.” 

Hanzo says nothing. Jesse concentrates on Genji’s cock, and not much else. He’s got his priorities. Genji makes a breathy, needy noise, and Jesse swallows him to the root and swallows around him. Genji moans, his hips pushing up, and Jesse holds himself still and lets him fuck his throat. Genji does it slow, but he goes deep. Jesse barely keeps himself from grinding his own hips into the mattress. Angle ain't quite right for it, anyway. 

“Feels good,” Genji says, and Jesse could about fucking _come_ , hearing that. He works his mouth around Genji and coaxes him into moving his hips faster, and Genji does, fucks up quick and needy and so, so close—

“Does it really?” Hanzo says. 

_“Yes,”_ Genji groans, practically clawing at Jesse, who could really care less about whatever the fuck Hanzo’s going on about and is only interested in making Genji come as hard as possible. Genji jerks violently, stifling a shocky cry as all his lights brighten, and then goes limp underneath him, throwing an arm across his eyes and panting for breath. Jesse pulls back, licking his lips again, and Genji lets out a moan. Jesse gives his cock a little kiss, then sits up. 

“I love doing that,” he says, relishing the way he can still feel the ghost of Genji’s cock in his throat. He kind of wants to sit on it now, or maybe fuck him himself while the other’s all sensitive and overwhelmed. Hard to choose, really. 

Well, one he’d have to wait for, so actually, not actually that hard. 

“Can I fuck you?” he asks. It’s been a while, so . . . 

“Do it,” Genji says breathlessly, immediately spreading his thighs just that little bit further apart in a way that goes straight to Jesse’s dick. Something else clicks, and another panel retracts. Jesse leans off the edge of the bed to snag the lube from underneath it and then sits back and slicks up his fingers. Genji don’t really need stretched, the way he’s built, but Jesse always liked doing it anyway; liked letting Genji know he was willing to take his time on him. 

“Glad to,” he says, leaning over the other and rubbing the pad of a finger over his hole. 

“You know you do not have to do that,” Genji says, sounding . . . _fond_ , kind of, which is something Jesse is gonna have to take a minute and process later, but for right now just makes him want to do it even more. 

“Lemme be nice to you, darlin’,” he says, dropping a kiss against the other’s shoulder and carefully pushing a finger into him to crook and rub. Genji sighs contentedly and presses into the contact. “See now, you make the best noises like this, why wouldn’t I wanna do it?” 

“You talk too much,” Genji says in that same fond tone, and Jesse rocks his finger inside him. 

“Yeah, I’ll talk all night if you let me,” he says, and Genji _laughs_. It’s such a fucking sweet sound that Jesse could about cry. He don’t know what he did to get to hear Genji like this, but it must’ve been _damn_ good. “Another?” 

“Yes,” Genji says, and sighs again as Jesse works in another finger, pushing into them. He ain’t looking down at himself, because when does he ever, but he’s as beautiful as he’s ever been. Even in the new armor, with the new mask, barely recognizable—even then. 

“Bad?” Jesse asks out of habit as he crooks his fingers again, and Genji lets out a breathless laugh. 

“No,” he says, putting his hands on Jesse’s arms and squeezing lightly. “Not bad.” 

“Good,” Jesse says, and can’t help smiling. Genji laughs again, sweet as anything, and it cuts right through to the core of him. Genji’s always been able to do that. 

“Get inside me, cowboy,” Genji says, hooking a leg around his back and lifting a hand to tweak his nose in an easy tease. 

“I mean, I’d hate to be ungentlemanly,” Jesse says as he reclaims his hand and slicks up his cock. “Wouldn’t want to let you down.” 

“You couldn’t,” Genji says, his breath hitching perfectly as Jesse pushes into him. He braces his hands on his shoulders and _squirms_ underneath him, and Jesse loves the sight of it. “Oh, _Jesse_.” 

“Right here, sweetheart,” Jesse promises, pressing a kiss to the other’s visor as he starts to move his hips. Genji sighs, then moans. 

“You are still staring,” he says breathlessly. It takes Jesse a second to remember Hanzo, because he really had managed to forget about the bastard, and he spares a brief glance back over his shoulder at him. Hanzo’s still sitting on the other end of the bed, looking stiff and restless and the kind of beautiful that makes Jesse hate him. 

A lot of things make him hate Hanzo, obviously. That one’s just especially high up the list. 

“You never do take the mask off, do you,” Hanzo says. 

“Yes,” Genji says, and it sounds simple. Jesse kisses his jaw and down to his throat, rocking his hips in harder and earning another moan for it. He used to have to practically pin Genji down just to make him feel something good, and the position ain’t especially different but it is so, so different all the same. 

“Why?” Hanzo asks, and Genji’s lights dim. Just a little, but still noticeably enough for Jesse to add another reason to hate Hanzo to the list. 

“That is not my face,” Genji says quietly. “Not anymore.” 

“It looked like your face,” Hanzo says, and Jesse’s hips—stutter, just for a moment. Genji puts a hand on his neck. 

He wants to say something, but . . . 

“Not to me,” Genji says distantly, and God Almighty, does Jesse _hate_ Hanzo Shimada. He bites down on Genji’s shoulder and _snaps_ his hips into him, and Genji gives a startled little gasp and then clings to him again, body wrapping around him. Jesse wants to make him forget his damned brother is even _there_. 

Hanzo don’t make that easy, though. 

“When was the last time you looked at it?” he says. Jesse could fucking kick him off the bed. It wouldn’t be hard. Genji hides his face against his shoulder, and don’t answer. 

“Shut up, Shimada,” Jesse helpfully supplies. 

“It is just a question,” Hanzo says. 

“Nothing you say is _just_ anything,” Jesse growls, putting a protective hand on the back of Genji’s head and snapping his hips in deeper. Genji is making very quiet hitched achy noises, and he tells himself it’s because the other’s getting fucked, and not anything else it might be. 

Not like he’d know, though, with the mask in the way. 

“Does he take the armor off, usually?” Hanzo says. Jesse really _might_ kick him off the bed. 

“None of your damn business,” he snaps. He’s fucking Genji and he’s _mad_ , something he would’ve previously thought impossible. Hanzo just brings it out of him, apparently, the stupid fuck. 

“It is just a question,” Hanzo says again. Jesse ignores him; concentrates on Genji. Genji is still making those _noises_ , and yeah, they probably are because he’s getting fucked, but that don’t change the fact that Jesse’ll never know for sure because Genji can’t bring himself to show him his face. 

He’ll show _Hanzo_ , though. Apparently that’s just fine. 

Jesse exhales, slowly. He reminds himself that Hanzo is a piece of shit and why would Genji care what he thought? Genji thinks there’s hope for the bastard, somewhere down deep in there, and maybe Jesse can’t say the same, but it ain’t his place to say. Genji’s the one who gets to decide that. 

Genji’s the one who gets to decide who sees his face, and when and where he’ll take his armor off. 

Jesse braces an arm against the bed and rolls his hips in just the way that used to drive Genji crazy and Genji holds him tighter and starts hissing and cursing. Good, Jesse thinks. That’s better, he thinks. 

“I got you, darlin’,” he says, and Genji moans into his shoulder and squeezes his thighs against his sides. He don’t say nothing back, but Jesse don’t mind. He’s right here, and that’s all that matters, no matter what questions Hanzo asks or if he’ll take his armor off or anything else. 

Fuck the rest of it, really, so long as Genji will still let him near him. 

“Jesse, _Jesse_ ,” Genji chokes out, and Jesse wraps his hand around the other’s cock and strokes in time with his thrusts. He wants to make him come again; wants to make him feel good again. Make him feel better than anything, make him not care about any of the other shit, make him feel _good_. “Oh, oh, oh—” 

“C’mon, darlin’, c’mon, yeah, just like that,” Jesse coaxes, and Genji gasps, and _chokes_ , and comes with a strangled, staticky cry against his shoulder. Jesse fucks him through it, then pulls back slowly, his dick aching to come too but really not important at the moment. He touches Genji’s face, and Genji turns into the contact. He looks better than anything, Jesse thinks. _Is_ better than anything. 

“You did not come,” Genji murmurs, low and raspy. 

“Wasn’t really worried about it,” Jesse murmurs back, tracing the back of a finger under the bottom of the curved lenses that hide Genji’s eyes from him. The glow behind them pulses, just once—almost like he’d blinked. Maybe his eyes glow green now. That’d look real pretty, he thinks. “You good?” 

“Yes,” Genji says, simple and easy like Jesse knows it ain’t. He kisses the other’s visor. 

“Okay,” he says. 

“Here,” Genji says, and reaches down between them to wrap his fingers around Jesse’s cock and stroke. It don’t take long at all until Jesse’s spilling all over his hand and stomach, and he lets out a low groan as he does. Genji hums softly and works him through it. Jesse catches his hand and pulls it up to his mouth to lick clean, and Genji hums again, his lights brightening. Jesse ain’t sure if that means anything, but he can’t help noticing it all the same. 

“Do the lights mean anything?” Hanzo asks, the fucking asshole. 

“Shut up, Shimada,” Jesse says, sliding down Genji’s body to lick the other’s stomach clean. 

“When I want them to,” Genji says, brushing a hand back through Jesse’s hair. Jesse presses into the contact. 

“Hn,” Hanzo says. “So you control them.” 

“I can,” Genji says. He’s still stroking Jesse’s hair. 

“ _Do_ you ever take the armor off?” Hanzo says. Genji is silent for a moment, and Jesse almost snaps at him, but then—

“Yes,” Genji says. “When I want to.” 

“So you do not want to right now,” Hanzo says. 

“Do you want me to, brother?” Genji says. “Do you wish to see how much is left of me under here?” 

“Yes,” Hanzo says. Genji snorts. 

“Of course you do,” he says, drawing his fingers through Jesse’s hair again, which is the only thing that keeps Jesse from sitting up and telling Hanzo off, the fucking _bastard_. Genji don’t need him fighting his fights for him, though. “I do not owe you an answer to that question.” 

“No, you do not,” Hanzo agrees. 

“Do me another favor, Hanzo,” Genji says. “Do not ask me questions like that.” 

Hanzo inclines his head in acknowledgement. Jesse still hates the bastard. He sits up again, ruffling his hair back into some semblance of order, and finds himself sitting between the two of them again, the very dubious filling in a Shimada sandwich. He’d always thought getting siblings in bed would be hotter, but the sibling rivalry in this case is literally homicidal, so . . . 

He don't really know what to do here. 

"You're such a fucking _dick_ ," he says, because he never could keep his fool mouth shut, and Hanzo just looks at him blankly. Jesse knows for a fact he's got a whole range of other expressions in there, so he don't know why the guy keeps doing that. It's stupid.

"As you like it," Hanzo says coolly. Jesse has no idea why Genji thought it was a good idea to bring him here. Just because he fucked him? Seriously? He's fucked a lot of people who do not belong anywhere _near_ his bunk, and Hanzo is top of that list. 

He knew Genji had issues about the shit he couldn't do, but dragging his own murderer into the bedroom to make up for it is definitely a new one. 

Fuck, he and Genji have barely _talked_ since he got here. Jesse didn't think about it, really, because Genji showed up acting like they'd just seen each other a week ago and it'd felt a bit like that to him too, honestly, but it's been five _years_. They're different people, or at least Genji is. Shit's different. 

He'd still pick Genji over anybody, no matter what, but . . . 

"I am glad to see you two will be getting along," Genji says wryly. 

"How can _you_ get along with him?" Jesse says, like an idiot. Genji tilts his head, seeming surprised by the question, which frankly is the least surprising question Jesse thinks he could've asked. The only surprising part is it didn't come up sooner. 

"I do not understand," Genji says. 

"He _killed you_ ," Jesse says. Ain't much there to understand, he thinks. 

"I have forgiven him for that," Genji says. 

" _I_ haven't," Jesse says. 

"Oh," Genii says, and Jesse _knows_ Genji ain't this stupid, but he really does sound surprised. 

"He has a point," Hanzo says neutrally. Jesse shoots him a glare on principle. Somebody in this conversation oughta be mad at the bastard. Because maybe Hanzo ain't forgiven himself, but he can't say he's really seen the man to be sorry either. 

"I do not wish to dwell on the past forever," Genji says. "I cannot look at him and think only of what he has done." 

"Maybe, but right now you're getting along with him enough to ask him to _blow me_ for you," Jesse says meaningfully. And kiss, but he don't mention that part. "That seems awful friendly, darlin'."

"I just thought . . ." Genji trails off. Jesse turns fully towards him and grips his hands. 

"I don't need easy. And you don't need to be around him," he says, because he _cannot_ believe that whatever Zenyatta was preaching was meant to end up in Genji doing anything like this. 

"I think there is good in him," Genji says. 

"You would be the only one," Hanzo says. Come to think, Jesse ain't too sure what Genji could've said to get him _to_ blow him. Like, that can't have been a normal approach. "Do not mistake me for what I am not." 

"You came here," Genji says. "You did not have to do that." 

"I did not have many places left to go," Hanzo says. Those eyes of his ain't saying anything, but they fucking _burn_ when Jesse looks at him. He wonders, again, what the hell Genji said to the man. 

"He can be here without you having to be around him," he says. Nobody would make Genji work with Hanzo if he said he didn't want to. Nobody'd even _think_ about it, if he said he didn't want to, and they wouldn't say shit about it either. "You got options. You don't gotta hang around your own fucking murderer." 

"He is my brother," Genji says quietly. 

"You are the literal only person I can think of who could still see him that way," Jesse says, squeezing his hands. Again: this can _not_ be what Zenyatta had in mind. "Except for maybe him, but his opinion ain't worth shit." 

"You do not understand," Genji says. "I cannot—he is my _brother_." 

Jesse can't help feeling that if Hanzo had ever thought like this, they wouldn't none of them be in this damn situation. 

What the hell else does Genji have left of his family, though? 

"Genji, sweetheart," he says. "I don't know if you're trying to prove something or what, but you don't gotta act like nothing ever happened." 

"You think I am acting like nothing happened?" Genji says. 

"I don't know," Jesse says. "You're acting like _something_ , I reckon." 

"This is foolish," Hanzo says, standing up. Jesse glares at him again, because the bastard deserves it. "Genji. I told you. Real life is not like our father's stories. I am not the man you think I am." 

"I think you are the man who killed me," Genji says, slowly. "And I think you do not know the difference between regretting me and honoring me." 

"Regret is a waste of time," Hanzo snaps. "It means nothing." 

"Does it?" Genji says. Jesse grips his hands tighter, because he don't know what else to do here. Obviously Genji is all fucked up about Hanzo still, even if in a different way than he used to be, and he don't know how to convince him to just fucking take _care_ of himself. 

"Would it give you back your arm? Your legs?" Hanzo says. "Your face?" 

"It would give me back my _brother_!" Genji shouts at him, pushing away from Jesse to jerk to his feet. Jesse almost tries to stop him, but that's just reflex. 

"You are a fool to think that!" Hanzo snarls. "There is nothing I can do for you! No action I can take!" 

"You have not even _tried_!" Genji says angrily. Jesse supposes they should be grateful the bunks are more or less soundproofed. He don't think Genji'd want everyone on the hall hearing this. 

Part of _him's_ glad to hear it, though. At least Genji can still get angry, still be vicious to the people who deserve it. He ain't just gonna let Hanzo do whatever he likes. 

"You are wasting your time!" Hanzo says. 

"You are being a coward!" Genji says. "You came here, did you not?! You at least _wanted_ to try!" 

"I told you, I had nowhere else to go!" Hanzo snaps. 

"You are lying to me!" Genji fumes, clenching his fists. "You had choices! There is always a choice! You just need to make the right one this time!" 

“You assume I made the wrong one before!” Hanzo says. 

“If I thought you believed that, I would have killed you when I had the chance,” Genji says, fists still clenched and shoulders drawn up tight. Hanzo’s eyes are burning. Jesse feels like the third wheel in this conversation, but more like kicking Hanzo out of the room and leaving him in the hall to rot. If Genji’s got something to say to him, though . . . 

“You should have done so,” Hanzo says, folding his arms. 

“You do not get off so easily!” Genji says. 

“You think this was easy?” Hanzo demands. “The clan—” 

“We could have _left_ the clan!” Genji explodes, storming in close to him. He don’t hit Hanzo, which means he’s got more restraint than Jesse does. “Gone anywhere else, done any _thing_ else!” 

“You gave me no choice!” Hanzo says furiously. “You would not listen!” 

“You never listened to _me_!” Genji says. “Was that life so important to you? Because you seem to have left it just fine since my death!” 

“You are _not dead_!” 

_“I wanted to be!”_

Hanzo jerks back. Genji trembles with rage. Jesse . . . Jesse _aches_ , remembering the way Genji was before. Remembering how bad it’d gotten, sometimes. He drags a hand through his hair and stares at the pair of them, waiting for one of them to say a damn thing to the other, but they don’t. They just stare at each other themselves. 

Well, Hanzo’s staring, anyway. Who knows what Genji’s actually doing. 

Jesse really don’t know what to do here. 

“Genji,” he says. Genji don’t turn towards him. “Genji, darlin’—” 

“Not now,” Genji cuts him off. “I cannot hear that now.” 

Jesse don’t even know what it is he means he can’t hear, but he falls silent anyway. Ain’t his place, maybe, but it’s so damn hard to hold his tongue all the same. Genji went through so much, and it’s all on Hanzo that it happened. Somebody else ordered it, sure, but Hanzo was the one who followed through; Hanzo was the one who _made_ it happen. 

Hanzo was the one Genji would’ve had to fight, and Jesse ain’t sure how well he coulda done that, then. 

“Genji,” Hanzo says harshly, and Genji goes stiff all over; raises his jaw, tenses his body. He looks like he’s bracing for a hit. 

“Hanzo,” he says. 

“I cannot fix you,” Hanzo says. “I cannot undo what I have done.” 

“I am not asking to be fixed,” Genji says. “Or undone.” 

Hanzo is silent. Jesse wants to say something so damn _bad_. 

“You could be better than this,” Genji says. “Things are different now. There is so much that you could do.” 

“I cannot—”

“Not for _me_ ,” Genji says sharply. “For other people. Our past will not change, but the future could.” 

“And that would be enough, to you?” Hanzo says. “That is why you have done all this?” 

“I would do much more, for that,” Genji says. 

“Tch.” Hanzo turns his head away. Genji keeps looking at him, or probably looking at him. Jesse simmers in silence, digging his fingers into his thighs. 

“If you truly do not think you can do this, I will not keep you here,” Genji says. “But I believe that you can, if you choose to.” 

“The only thing I have done here so far is argue with you and sleep with your lover,” Hanzo says tersely. “Where in that is your belief?” 

“In you,” Genji says. “As it has always been.” 

Hanzo bares his teeth. Genji don’t do a thing. Jesse glances back and forth between them, waiting for whatever’s gonna happen to happen. Neither of them seems willing to do it, whatever it is. 

“This is pointless,” Hanzo says. 

“I do not think so,” Genji says. 

“You are wrong,” Hanzo says, and turns on his heel to head towards the door. 

“Hanzo . . .” Genji says, and Hanzo ignores him to open the door. Genji stares after him for a moment, then looks at Jesse. Jesse don’t know what to do, but sits up straighter. 

“Genji,” he starts, but Genji cuts him off with a shake of his head. 

“Not . . . not right now, Jesse,” he says, and follows Hanzo out. 

Jesse watches him go, and still don’t know what to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Jesse has a problem, and that problem is the Shimada brothers. First part of the problem: Hanzo exists. Second part: Genji’s disappeared. 

Jesse would really have rather had that one the other way around. 

It’s been almost a week since the whole mess in his bedroom went down, and he’s seen Hanzo at least once every day, but not so much as caught a glimpse of Genji. That may not be intentional, given the size of the base and the fact he knows the other’s been on at least one mission, but Genji ain’t intentionally _finding_ him either. 

He’s getting real sick of Hanzo, and real antsy about Genji. 

So it ain’t great that Winston’s sent _them_ on a mission together. 

“The pilots say we should be there in three hours,” Hanzo says as he steps into the back of the dropship, the door closing behind him. 

“Don’t fucking talk to me, Shimada,” Jesse says from his seat against the wall, tilting his hat down over his eyes and really wishing he’d pulled Winston aside and told him just how bad an idea pairing him up with Hanzo would be before the other’d gotten it into his head to do it. He was more worried about the idea of _Genji_ getting paired up with him, and didn’t think this far ahead. 

“That will make the mission difficult,” Hanzo says neutrally. Jesse scowls. 

“Fuck you,” he says. 

“That again?” Hanzo says in that same neutral tone. Jesse hears him moving on the other side of the ship and idly imagines tipping back his hat and just . . . shooting him. Just a little bit. Not enough to kill the bastard, just enough to hurt him a bit. 

Or a lot. 

“Real funny,” he says flatly. Fucking Hanzo’s mouth again would shut him up, at least. The idea reminds him of Genji thinking he’d _prefer_ Hanzo, though, so shooting him still sounds a lot better. 

“We _do_ have to work together, you realize,” Hanzo says. Jesse tips his hat back just enough to see him sit down against the opposite wall, and frankly wishes he were further away. Like, say, outside the dropship altogether. Ideally without a parachute. 

“Believe me, I am deeply regretting that fact,” Jesse says. He’ll work with Hanzo a lot better if the man just _shuts up_ , he’s sure. 

The bruises on the other’s neck ain’t even had the decency to fade yet. 

“We need a plan of attack,” Hanzo says, because for some fucking reason he just keeps talking, don’t he. And after Jesse’s managed to avoid having a conversation with him all week, too. 

“I have a plan: attack,” Jesse says, giving Peacekeeper a meaningful pat. Hanzo frowns at him. 

“Winston asked us to be stealthy,” he says. “We must avoid raising the alarm.” 

“Ain’t gonna be anybody to raise the alarm if they’re all dead,” Jesse says practically. Why didn’t Winston send _Genji_ with him? They were both Blackwatch. If he wants stealth . . . 

It occurs to him that maybe Genji asked Winston not to pair him up with _him_ , and his stomach sinks at the thought. Did he? _Would_ he? They always worked together real well back in the day, but back in the day was different. 

“Do not be difficult about this,” Hanzo says irritably. 

“Who says I’m the difficult one?” Jesse shoots back, more occupied with the thought that Genji might not wanna work with him than Hanzo’s opinion of him. That’s a hell of a lot more important, far as he’s concerned. 

“The one trying to _work_ with you,” Hanzo snaps. Jesse thinks about shooting him again. He could make it look like an accident, probably. He wouldn’t bother, but he could. “This mission is important.” 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Jesse says. They wouldn’t be _doing_ it if it weren’t important. Hanzo glares at him. Jesse glares back, obviously. 

“You are _impossible_ ,” Hanzo says through gritted teeth. 

“And you’re a piece of shit who murdered his brother,” Jesse says. Hanzo’s glare darkens. 

“If we cannot put aside our differences, we could end up arrested,” he says. “Or dead. I assume you would prefer to avoid that.” 

“I mean, if I take you down with me, seems like making the best of a bad situation,” Jesse says with a shrug. Hanzo trying to kill Genji ain’t a “difference” to be put aside; that’s a sin the man’s gonna carry the rest of his life, and not one Jesse’s liable to forgive. Maybe that means he ain’t as good a man as he could be, but Hanzo don’t _deserve_ it. 

“Be _serious_ , McCree,” Hanzo hisses. Jesse thinks about shooting him again. That’s gonna be happening a lot, he expects. 

“How serious you want me to be?” he says. “‘Cause Genji might have a vested interest in keeping you alive for whatever fucking fucked-up reason, but I really don’t.” 

“If you cannot handle this situation, you should have refused the mission,” Hanzo says tightly. Jesse could just bash his head against the bulkhead, he thinks. He could do that. 

“This _situation_?” he says. “That’s what you’re calling it?” 

“I will call it what I like,” Hanzo says. 

“I should just kill you and tell ‘em you fucked up the mission,” Jesse says. “Maybe then Genji could get on with his damn life.” 

“Then kill me,” Hanzo says. “Do not waste my time going back and forth about it.” 

“I _woulda_ , if Genji didn’t want you in one piece,” Jesse snaps. He wants to say something that’ll hurt the bastard, but there ain’t any convenient ammunition to be throwing his way. Not any that wouldn’t involve telling him things Genji might not want him to know, anyway. Jesse could go on for a fucking _year_ about what Genji used to be like and how Hanzo’s bullshit affected him and how much pain he’s gone through because of the bastard, but that ain’t necessarily Hanzo’s right to know. 

“You are so angry,” Hanzo says. 

“Can’t imagine why!” Jesse says with a sharp bark of laughter. 

“I did nothing to you,” Hanzo says. 

“It don’t matter what you did to me, it matters what you did to _Genji_ ,” Jesse says. “You hurt him worse than anybody else coulda. You hurt him just about the worst anybody could hurt _anybody_.” 

“And that is between him and I,” Hanzo says. 

“No, it ain’t!” Jesse says angrily, wishing he had something to throw at him. Options are limited, unfortunately. “That shit’s affected other people too! Or do you think the reason Mercy leaves the room every time she sees you is ‘cause she’s got fucking _errands_?!” 

“I did not say any of you should like me,” Hanzo says stiffly. “But what I did has nothing to do with any of you.” 

“How would you fucking know?!” Jesse snarls. “You’ve been running around doing whatever you liked all this time, you ain’t _been_ here! You don’t know _shit_!” 

“Is this really the time for this discussion?” Hanzo says. Jesse gets up, goes over, and kicks him in the thigh. _Hard_. “Hell!” 

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” Jesse says, and barely keeps himself from kicking him again. If Hanzo were on his feet he’d have fucking clocked him, but obviously he ain’t. 

He could kick him in the head. That’s an option. 

“And you are fixated on things that are not your concern,” Hanzo says, glaring up at him. Jesse could explain to him how Genji ain’t been within a hundred feet of him in a fucking _week_ , ain’t so much as _texted_ him, but again, it’s shit Hanzo don’t deserve to know. 

“You don’t know shit,” he says again. Genji probably _did_ ask Winston not to pair them up. Genji probably never wants to see him again. 

“This is not the time to be fighting,” Hanzo says irritably, rubbing at his thigh. Jesse hopes it bruises to the goddamn bone. He hopes nobody ever touches the bastard again except to hurt him. 

“Says who?” he says. He told Genji all that shit, so many of those too-true things he'd always had to hold back before, and Genji took all that and didn’t do shit with it. Genji took all that and he’s been _avoiding_ him. 

It ain’t a subtle answer, really. 

It ain’t a subtle answer, and like all of this, it’s all Hanzo’s fucking fault. 

“Do not be a child,” Hanzo says. 

“Get up so I can fucking hit you, asshole,” Jesse says. With the metal arm, ideally. He wants to fucking hurt somebody, and by “somebody” he _definitely_ means Hanzo. 

“I am not going to fight you,” Hanzo says. 

“Yeah you are,” Jesse says, and grabs him by the arm to drag up. He makes sure to use the prosthetic, and he don’t listen to the warning feedback when he squeezes too hard. Hanzo curses at him, and Jesse thinks about smashing his pretty face against the bulkhead. He thinks about fucking _hurting_ the guy, and that’s what he’s gonna do. 

“Let _go_ of me!” Hanzo snaps, clawing at his prosthetic. 

“Make me,” Jesse says. 

Hanzo hits him in the face, which seems reasonable enough as a response. 

Good, Jesse thinks, and bashes him into the bulkhead. Hanzo curses again. Jesse punches him hard enough to knock his head back into the metal, and Hanzo hits him in the face again and bloodies his nose. They struggle for position, shoving and yanking each other back and forth, and Jesse does his damnedest to hit Hanzo as many times as he can in the process. Hanzo hits back, obviously, and he hits fucking _hard_ , but Jesse don’t care. It don’t matter if he gets hurt, so long as Hanzo gets hurt too. 

Ideally he’ll get hurt _worse_ , but Jesse ain’t gonna be picky. All that matters to him is that he sees some of the bastard’s blood. Hanzo deserves a lot worse than Jesse’s gonna do to him, but that don’t mean Jesse’s above this, mission or no. He’ll explain it to Winston, if he’s gotta. 

Hanzo slams him into the bulkhead and pins him there. Jesse grabs his arm with the prosthetic and _squeezes_. Hanzo snarls in pain and throws him to the floor, and Jesse kicks him in the knee and knocks him down, and then they’re grappling for position again, rolling over and over until Jesse hits the side of a supply crate and gets the breath knocked out of him. 

“You _idiot_ ,” Hanzo growls. Jesse punches him again. 

Seems like the thing to do, and all. 

Blood drips out of Hanzo’s mouth— _good_ , Jesse thinks savagely—and he snarls again. Jesse hits him harder. Hanzo’s a mess, bloody-mouthed with his hair half-yanked out of the ponytail and his shirt coming off his shoulder and those bruises Jesse left when they fucked still visible against his pale skin. It makes Jesse want to bruise him up even worse. It makes Jesse want to fucking _scar_ him. 

He hates this fucking bastard so fucking much. 

“McCree—” Hanzo says, still _exactly_ the way Genji always said it, and Jesse really might just kill him. This might be reason enough to. 

“I fucking _hate_ you,” he hisses up at the other, gripping the front of his shirt. Blood drips out of Hanzo’s mouth and onto his chestplate as the other gasps for breath, and again, Jesse hopes no one ever touches him again except to hurt him. Let the guy die miserable and unloved and alone, like he deserves. 

“We do not have to do this,” Hanzo rasps. Jesse tries to throw him off; Hanzo weighs him down. “Be _still_.” 

“Fuck you,” Jesse snarls. “Go to hell and _rot_!” 

“If I must,” Hanzo says. More blood drips out of his mouth. It’s kind of disgusting, actually. Jesse don’t want that shit on him. “For the moment, however, we have work to do. It is not the time to scrabble like children.” 

“I’m gonna kill you someday,” Jesse tells him. “The moment Genji gives the okay, you’re dead. I ain’t got a sword, but I bet I could get you in pieces anyway. See how you like it.” 

“Perhaps, but that day is not today,” Hanzo says grimly, beautiful and barely scarred and a _bastard_. 

Jesse thinks of Genji, stupidly and longingly, and then he thinks of how much he’d love to put a bullet in this man. 

“I hate you,” he says again. Hanzo bares bloody teeth at him. Jesse wants to knock them out of his head. Jesse wants to knock his _face_ in. See how fucking pretty he’d be then. 

He wants Genji to be here, and not Hanzo. 

“I do not care,” Hanzo says. “Your opinion of me means nothing.” 

“I hope it hurts when you die,” Jesse says. “And I hope you’re alone and scared the whole damn time.” 

Hanzo grips his jaw. Jesse grins at him, nice and nasty. Hanzo’s eyes burn, and he don’t say a word. 

Jesse really wants to see him suffer. He ain’t ever been all that vindictive a man, but for Hanzo Shimada he’ll gladly change his tune, and he won’t regret it a moment. 

Justice oughta be done, is the thing. 

“This is pointless,” Hanzo says finally, letting go of his face. He’s still on top of him; still has his other arm on his chest. Jesse can feel his cock against his thigh, and it ain’t exactly soft. 

“Whore,” he says, because it’s there to say. 

“Shut up,” Hanzo says icily. 

“You’re so fucking _easy_ ,” Jesse says, and Hanzo shoves his head into the floor. Jesse grins up at him, thinking about smashing his face in again. He thinks about how Genji heard all those things he had to say to him and don’t wanna be nowhere _near_ him. About how bad Genji’s been hurt, and how little Hanzo’s had to pay for it. 

He thinks, again, how this is all Hanzo’s fault. 

“I said—” Hanzo starts, and Jesse hits him in the face. It’s the reasonable thing to do. Hanzo hits him back, then spits blood at him, which is—disgusting, definitely. Jesse wipes it away and decides that yeah, he definitely needs to hurt him some more. A whole lot more. 

“You don’t deserve to be here,” he says, and lunges up to flip them over, so Hanzo hits his back _hard_. Hopefully it hurts. “You don’t deserve nothing you’ve got, much less a fucking second chance.” 

“Has Genji spoken to you?” Hanzo says, and yeah, okay. Jesse is gonna hurt him. 

He hits him. Hanzo tries to hit him back but Jesse blocks with his prosthetic and the other _curses_. Jesse hopes he broke a fucking knuckle. They’re back to fucking wrestling on the floor that quick, and Jesse takes a vindictive pleasure in going for as many face shots as he can get. Hanzo puts his knee in his gut hard enough that he nearly vomits, but it don’t matter: again, he just wants to hurt Hanzo. Everything else is secondary. 

He hits him again. Hanzo grabs his hair and smashes his head against the floor. Jesse hits him harder, and they roll back and forth in a vicious knot. It’s a goddamn mess, and there’s probably blood on the floor. Jesse don’t give a shit. 

“Asshole,” he snarls, slamming Hanzo’s shoulders—and head—against the floor. Hanzo growls up at him. Jesse wants to _hurt_ him. 

He yanks at Hanzo’s shirt; pulls it apart. Hanzo bares his teeth. Jesse rakes his nails across his chest, not caring if the welts are going to be visible later, and Hanzo hisses loudly, grabbing his hips. Jesse sits on _his_ hips and leans down to bite at his collarbone, and Hanzo hisses again. 

“McCree,” he says warningly. Jesse makes a real deliberate point of grinding down, and Hanzo’s hips jerk. 

“Shimada,” Jesse replies mockingly, and grinds down again. 

Hanzo snarls. Jesse digs his nails into his chest. Hanzo’s hips buck up sharply, and Jesse weighs him down. Hanzo snaps his teeth at him. 

“What, that eager to come in your pants again?” Jesse says. “You’re so fucking _needy_.” 

“Shut up,” Hanzo growls. 

“Naw,” Jesse says, shifting to rub his ass against the other’s trapped cock. Maybe he _will_ make him come in his pants again; let him have to deal with that mess for the whole mission. Sounds like a good idea to him. “You’re needy, fucking deal with it. What, too hard to go get a hooker? Or is that not ‘honorable’ or something?” 

“Just stop _talking_ ,” Hanzo grits out, tightening his grip on his hips. Jesse just rubs him harder, not particularly caring. Hanzo’s fingertips might bruise him with how hard they’re digging in, but who’s gonna see? 

“Come to think, ain’t this the kinda thing that got Genji in trouble?” Jesse says musingly. "Ain't you a fucking hypocrite." 

He grinds down again. Hanzo moans. Yeah—so fucking easy. 

"Jesus, I don't even gotta try, do I," Jesse says. "Bet I could do this wherever I wanted and you'd be up for it." 

Hanzo moans again. Jesse didn't even do nothing particularly good. 

"Hold up, are you getting _off_ on this?" he asks incredulously. "Shimada. That's just _sad_." 

"I am not," Hanzo says through gritted teeth. Jesse don't even _slightly_ believe him. 

"Whore," he says again, and rolls his hips. Jesse ain't the type to judge nobody else's sex life, but with Hanzo he'd judge the guy's taste in fucking _cereal_. "What else do you wanna hear, I could go on for a fucking _minute_ about what a fuck-up you are. Ain't gonna be hard if that's all it takes to get you off." 

"Stop. Talking," Hanzo says sharply. 

"Yeah, no," Jesse says, rolling his hips again; picking up the pace a bit. "I'm just gonna keep telling you what a miserable piece of shit you are until you come for it. You always get hot for that kinda thing? Have you just been walking around all riled up every time somebody told you to fuck off? That's gotta be uncomfortable." 

Hanzo don't tell him to shut up again. Hanzo's fucking _shuddering_ , in fact. 

Well, Jesse ain't above saying some nasty shit to the bastard. He hopes the other chokes on it. 

"Or are you just getting off on the whore thing," he says. "Because you are definitely that too, there is no fucking doubt there. Easiest one I've ever had. You wanted to suck my cock so _bad_." 

"McCree," Hanzo says thinly, digging his fingers in harder against his hips. Definitely gonna bruise. 

Well, Jesse'll consider that proof of a job well done. 

"You did," he says. "Hell, I bet Genji didn't even have to ask, you were _right_ the fuck on it. Though I woulda thought you'd be better at it, for how up for it you were." 

Hanzo ain't talking no more, but he is making weird choked noises in time with the rocking of Jesse's hips. He really is about to come to this, isn't he, shit. 

"So easy," Jesse says, shaking his head derisively and dragging a hand down Hanzo's stomach as the other arches into the contact. "Don't even take any work to get you off. Do I even need to be on your cock right now?" 

Hanzo's getting pretty loud. Well, whatever; so's the engine. The pilots probably won't hear. 

"Noisy fucker," Jesse says anyway, putting a hand over the other's mouth. "What, you want somebody to come in and see you like this? Maybe they'll give you something else to do with that pretty mouth. Bet you'd like that." 

Hanzo moans behind his hand, panting for breath. Jesse, again, ain't even done anything particularly good. 

"Yeah, I know you would," he says. "You'd love it. We'd fuck you sick." 

Hanzo pants, and pants, and _pants_ —

"Try to yell when you come," Jesse advises. "Best way to get them to come back here and fuck you." 

_"Nngh,"_ Hanzo chokes, his hips jacking up roughly underneath Jesse, who considers just getting up and leaving him like this but don't actually do it. He'd rather keep talking. 

"C'mon, lemme hear it, I know you wanna," he says coaxingly. "If you get them to come back here maybe we'll run a train on you. I know you'd like _that_." 

_"McCree,"_ Hanzo moans. Jesse puts his hands on the other's exposed chest; takes the excuse to tug at his nipples. Hanzo moans louder again. 

"There we go," Jesse says. "C'mon, c'mon—" 

Hanzo comes with a stifled, strangled cry, jerking up into Jesse, and Jesse watches him do it and feels . . . not much, really. Hanzo ain't a friend, definitely, but he ain't a proper enemy until Genji says otherwise, and Jesse don't have a way to classify him. He's _bad_ , and he ain't sorry for it, and he don't deserve to be here, and . . . 

And. 

Hanzo tries to get his breath back. Jesse thinks about choking it out of him altogether. 

"Hope sitting there in your own come is comfortable, 'cause you're stuck with it now," he says lightly. Hanzo really is just fucking _starving_ for it, ain't he. 

"Get off me," Hanzo growls. He still ain't breathing right. Jesse considers listening to him, but he don't wanna give Hanzo any ideas about that kinda thing. 

"Naw," he says. Hanzo growls again and shoves him off himself, then gets up and goes into the bathroom, presumably to clean himself up a bit. Jesse considers following him, but ain't much point, probably. 

Jesse follows him. 

"That was not necessary," Hanzo says, glaring at him in the little bathroom mirror as he scrubs come off himself. He ain't even fixed his shirt yet. 

"Your dick seemed to disagree," Jesse drawls, leaning against the doorway. It's a tiny bathroom, and they ain't particularly tiny men. He ain't even sure they could both fit in it at once. He might be about to try it, though. There's still something burning under his skin, and he ain't satisfied yet. 

"That is irrelevant," Hanzo says. 

Jesse could answer that, but instead he crowds into the bathroom with him and pins him to the wall. Hanzo curses. Jesse bites the back of his neck and rubs his cock against the other's ass. He might fuck him like this, he thinks lazily. That might be happening now. 

"McCree!" Hanzo hisses. 

"What, mad you can't get my cock in your mouth?" Jesse asks, pushing a hand down the other's pants to feel him up a bit. 

"I do not remember asking for that," Hanzo says. 

"Yeah, but you want it, right?" Jesse hooks his chin over the other's shoulder, peering at his face in the mirror. Hanzo is scowling, big surprise. "Any excuse to get a dick in you." 

"Idiot," Hanzo snaps. 

"I don't hear you arguing," Jesse says. He tugs at the waist of the other's pants. Hanzo don't stop him. "Or do you want your dick in me? That'd be a change." 

"I am not interested in your speculations," Hanzo says coldly. 

"Fucking greedy is what you are. You _just_ came," Jesse snorts. He pulls down Hanzo's pants. Hanzo, again, don't stop him. "Greedy as hell. You really think I should be that nice to you?" 

"Just fucking do something," Hanzo says, his voice tight. He's still glaring at the mirror, though he ain't quite looking at Jesse. 

"Hm, yeah?" Jesse says. "Wanna watch yourself get fucked? You make real slutty faces when you do." 

"Enough," Hanzo bites off sharply. He pushes his ass back against Jesse's cock, which makes him wanna fuck the guy up like nobody's business. 

"Oh, I ain't had even _close_ to enough," Jesse says. He cups Hanzo's spent cock with his prosthetic and rubs his own against his ass again, pressing in tight. They fill up the bathroom 'til it's practically claustrophobic. Hanzo grabs the back of his prosthetic with a hiss. It's probably cold, Jesse figures. 

"McCree," Hanzo says in that warning tone from before. 

"What, we got time," Jesse says. "And I definitely ain't interested in spending it making small talk." 

"Just hurry up," Hanzo says impatiently, glaring back over his shoulder at him. 

"Think it'll echo if you get noisy in here?" Jesse says. "You got pretty loud as it was." 

"McCree, get some goddamn priorities when you have a hand on me," Hanzo growls. 

"On your dick, you mean," Jesse supplies helpfully, giving it a pointed squeeze. He's gotta be real careful since it's the prosthetic he's doing it with, but Hanzo inhales sharply and stiffens warily, definitely making it worth the effort. "Yeah, right there. Try not to come _immediately_ this time, I don't wanna clean that shit out of my joints." 

"That could injure me," Hanzo says as he glances down at the prosthetic, his voice tight. 

"I really don't care," Jesse says. He ain't gonna _try_ to, but he ain't gonna cry over spilled milk if Hanzo gets a pinch or two neither. 

"Nnn," Hanzo says, gripping the sides of the sink roughly. 

"So easy," Jesse says, because Hanzo definitely is. A couple insults and a threat shouldn't turn somebody on this much. "Where's your fucking dignity, Shimada? Or does that just go out the window the minute you want laid?" 

"You are _unbearable_ ," Hanzo bites off. Jesse grinds his dick against his ass, and Hanzo's breath catches. 

"I dunno, I think there's _something_ about me you can bear," Jesse drawls. He rifles through his pocket until he comes up with a little packet of lube and a condom, and tosses both into the sink. "You want it? Ask for it." 

"I want it," Hanzo says, gritting his teeth again. 

"That being . . . ?" Jesse says, pressing up tight against his back. 

"Your _dick_ ," Hanzo snaps impatiently, hands fisting on the sink. "Get it in me. _Fuck_ me." 

"Well, if you insist," Jesse says. He grabs the lube and slicks up his fingers, and Hanzo exhales raggedly and shifts his feet apart to spread his legs better. His pants are all tangled up in his boots at the knee, but good enough, Jesse figures, and pushes a finger into him roughly. Hanzo hisses. Jesse don't wait too long to push in the next one. 

"McCree," Hanzo groans. 

"Shimada," Jesse says, leaning heavily against his back as he works him open. Hanzo's panting again already. "Oh, you need more already?" 

"Hurry _up_ ," Hanzo says. 

"Tell me first," Jesse says. He don't specify what he wants told, mostly 'cause he wants to see what Hanzo'll assume. 

"I need more," Hanzo says thickly, and yeah, not specifying was the right call. 

"Mm?" Jesse says. 

"I need _more_ ," Hanzo repeats, his shoulders stiff and body tense. Jesse is perfectly happy to oblige, at least this time. He works in a third finger and twists, and Hanzo moans. Jesse fucks him with his fingers and lets him move into it a bit, not enough to get too much out of it but just enough so there's no denying that's what he's doing. 

"Yeah you do, you always want more," Jesse says. "Are you even hard again yet or do you just need to get fucked that bad?" 

"I am not hard," Hanzo says. "I need to be fucked." 

Well this is a _delightful_ turn of events, Jesse thinks. 

"Tell me or I'll stop," he says. 

"I need to be fucked," Hanzo repeats roughly, his shoulders shaking and hips moving greedily. "I need to be fucked, I need it, I need _you_ to fuck me— _ah_!" 

"Good start," Jesse says. He pulls back to roll on the condom, and Hanzo keeps shaking like he's still inside him. He is, again, real fucking easy. "You always get like this, or am I a special case?"

"Get _in_ me," Hanzo says, like he's got the right to ask for fucking _anything_ , and Jesse grips his hips and pulls him back onto his cock. Hanzo chokes, hands scrabbling for purchase against the sink. 

Good. 

"I bet I won't even have to touch your dick," Jesse says, digging his fingers into the other's hips. "You'll come all over yourself without me even trying." 

"Move," Hanzo groans, squirming back into him. Jesse don't, mostly to see how he'll react. "I need you to move, I need to be fucked, I _need_ it." 

"Well ain't this just the sweetest you've ever been," Jesse says. Hanzo opens his mouth to say something, and Jesse snaps his hips in _hard_ and it comes out closer to a yelp than anything else. 

Yeah, Jesse likes that. 

"You'd be a lot easier to put up with if we just kept you on somebody's dick," he says, and keeps fucking him. He's rough about it, and he don't go to no effort to make it good for him. Hanzo don't seem to care, though, 'cause he's moaning like it's fucking _perfect_. "Yeah, you'd like that, a nice fat cock to sit on all day and keep you in line." 

"Yes, yes," Hanzo's panting over and over, and Jesse keeps fucking him in quick, brutal thrusts, grabbing the back of his hair to drag his head back. He wants the sink to bruise Hanzo's hips. He wants him to see himself in the mirror. He wants to make him feel like _hell_ when this is all said and done. 

"Tell me," he says. 

"I want it, I want to sit on your cock," Hanzo moans. Jesse finds it in himself to fuck him harder. _"Ah!"_

"You should always be this damn obedient," Jesse says. "Maybe next time you get lippy I'll just put you on your knees." 

"Yes, yes, I want you to," Hanzo says, clutching at the sink again. Jesse wonders what the guy'd actually do if he really tried it. He's suspecting he'd go with it, long as he talked him down enough in the process. "Oh, oh, _oh_ do not stop, do not stop, I need it." 

"You need it, huh?" Jesse says. He thinks about pulling out and leaving him here, cold and alone and half-naked in a dropship bathroom, begging to be touched. 

He really wants to get his rocks off, though. 

"I do, I do," Hanzo gasps breathlessly, nodding furiously. Jesse looks at that pretty, pretty face in the mirror and hates him. Not even with any real passion to it, for the moment; just as a simple fact. 

"Tell me," he says. 

"I need it, I need it, I need to be fucked, I need your _cock_ —" 

"You don't deserve it," Jesse says. 

"I do not," Hanzo agrees immediately, bracing himself against the sink and shoving his hips back into Jesse's, needy and greedy. Jesse hopes the ache ain't gonna leave him for days. 

"Maybe I won't let you come, come to think of it," he says. "You ain't earned it." 

"I have not," Hanzo agrees again, still clutching at the sink, still desperately fucking himself back onto Jesse's cock. Jesse lets him, for the moment. 

"Greedy shit," he says. "You don't deserve any of this. You ain't earned a damn thing in your life, except for how much I fucking hate you." 

"I know," Hanzo says, his hips rocking harder and his head dropping forward. Jesse yanks it back up again. He wants Hanzo to see his own face. His perfect, flawless, uncovered face. 

"You ought to," he says. He stops fucking him, because he really does hate him. Hanzo makes a distressed, desperate noise, and Jesse pulls out of him and leans back. Hanzo fucking _whines_. "Shut up." 

Hanzo don't say a word. Don't even move. Jesse peels the condom off and starts jacking himself off, thinking nasty, spiteful things until he comes all over the small of the other's back. Hanzo hisses, but that's it. 

"You still hard?" Jesse says, and Hanzo nods mutely. "That's unfortunate for you." 

Hanzo still don't say a word. Jesse reaches around and hooks a finger in the corner of the other's mouth, pulling it back roughly. Hanzo shudders. 

"Turn around," Jesse says. Hanzo does, and Jesse looks down at him, shirt in disarray and pants shoved down around his knees and body flushed and sweaty and cock so hard it probably hurts. He wonders how long Hanzo would stay there standing like that, if he told him to. 

He shoves his fingers into the other's mouth far enough back to choke him, but Hanzo don't resist. Maybe he'll fuck him with them. Maybe he really will just make him stand there until the ship lands. 

There's options. 

Jesse reclaims his fingers, and Hanzo exhales raggedly. His skin ain't any less flushed and his cock ain't any softer. 

"You ain't even worth fucking," Jesse says. "You ain't worth a damn thing." 

Hanzo, still, don't say a word. 

There's a lot of shit Hanzo won't say, of course. This ain't too different. 

"Tell me what you need," Jesse says. 

"I need to fuck you," Hanzo says on a rough shudder, which ain't the answer Jesse was expecting but ain't some big grand shock either. 

"You really think I'm gonna let you do that?" he says. 

"No," Hanzo says. 

"I really shouldn't," Jesse says. He pulls out another condom, then reaches for the abandoned lube packet and squeezes out the leftovers, which ain't a lot but with the lube already on the condom oughta be enough to get by on. Hanzo watches him do it, those cold eyes burning, and inhales sharply as he shoves down his pants and works a finger into himself. 

"Fuck," Hanzo says. 

"Don't get too excited," Jesse says. "I still might not let you come." 

"I do not need to come," Hanzo says. 

"Says the one who can't even last long enough to get undressed," Jesse snorts, working in another finger and carefully stretching himself. Hanzo keeps watching him with this real hungry look, which with another partner would probably do a lot for him but with Hanzo just pisses him off. A lot of things about Hanzo piss him off. "Take a fucking picture, why don't you." 

"You look very good," Hanzo says, and Jesse barks out a laugh of disbelief. He's kidding, right? 

"This really strike you as the occasion for that kinda thing?" he asks. Hanzo don't answer, but he keeps staring. Jesse gives him a dubious look. "Gonna get that condom on, or . . . ?" 

Hanzo gets the condom on. Jesse takes his fingers out of himself and turns his back on him and Hanzo puts his hands on him real careful, which makes Jesse give him another dubious look. Is he fucking serious? 

"Are you fucking serious?" he says. Hanzo pushes his mouth into the back of his neck without answering, which he guesses is its own answer. 

He pushes his hips back and rubs his ass against Hanzo's dick, as the one with actual priorities here, and Hanzo hisses and tightens his grip on him. 

"Get in me," Jesse orders, and Hanzo complies. He pushes in real slow and Jesse huffs, reaching back to put a hand on his hip. He pushes back, shoving Hanzo back against the sink and bracing an arm against the doorway, and immediately starts to move. Hanzo hisses again. "C'mon, _move_." 

Hanzo don't, really, but Jesse's willing to make up the difference. He ain't been fucked in a while but it ain't like he's gonna forget how to use his damn hips. He rolls them, and Hanzo groans against his neck. 

"Tell me," Jesse says, because Hanzo's been saying all sorts of interesting shit to answer that, and Hanzo groans again. 

"I need to fuck you," he says. "I need inside you." 

"I got good news for you, then," Jesse drawls dryly, and deliberately clenches his body around the other as he pushes back again. Hanzo chokes. It's a good sound, if a brief one. Jesse could listen to this bastard choke all day. 

"You are so _tight_ ," Hanzo says. 

"That's about how it goes, yeah," Jesse says, rocking his hips back harder. Hanzo buries his face in the back of his shoulder, shuddering. "Still so fucking easy." 

"It feels good," Hanzo rasps; Jesse hates him a bit for how easy the word "good" comes out of him. Hanzo's fingers dig in on his hips. 

"Obviously," Jesse says. He's doing most of the work here, but to be fair, he did start by shoving Hanzo into the sink. He probably don't have much room to move. 

Still annoying, though. 

"You gonna do anything back there, or you just suck at this too?" Jesse asks pointedly, rolling his hips back again. Hanzo grunts, then shoves forward. His cock jars deep into Jesse, and Jesse bites a hiss in half. That was definitely an improvement. "Better. Keep it up." 

Hanzo keeps it up. He fucks into Jesse roughly, biting down on the back of his shoulder and leaving fingernail marks on his hips, and Jesse moves with him because they don't have all fucking day here. 

Hanzo, for the record, is _much_ better at fucking than he is at sucking cock. 

Well, it'd be hard not to be, Jesse thinks to himself. He braces himself better against the doorframe and snaps his hips back harder and Hanzo meets him in kind, and it actually goes a hell of a lot smoother than some partners Jesse's had, which is pretty fucking ironic, he thinks. Of course he'd be good at fucking the second coming of Cain. Of _course_. 

His goddamn life. 

"McCree," Hanzo says against his back, struggling for breath. "McCree, McCree, McCree—" 

"Yeah, yeah," Jesse grunts, fisting his hands against the doorframe. Hanzo moans. He really is fucking _noisy_. "Keep it down, you fucking whore." 

Hanzo does not keep it down, and it _does_ echo in the bathroom. Jesse's busy getting fucked, but not too busy to be exasperated, no matter how good Hanzo is at using his dick. 

"God dammit, Shimada," he snaps back at him, and then Hanzo shifts his hips into a _real_ nice angle and slides in _deep_ and okay, fine, Jesse'll live with him being noisy. 

Fuck. _Fuck_. 

"Harder," Jesse orders, and Hanzo complies. "C'mon, c'mon, fuck me right and I might let you get off. Or maybe I won't. You'd be fine spending the mission with blue balls, right, you're probably used to it. Maybe I'll let you come after, if you don't fuck up too bad." 

"McCree," Hanzo groans against his back, and Jesse fucks himself faster on the other's length. 

"You really can't keep it in your pants at all, can you, I bet we couldn't keep you happy even if we _did_ keep a cock up your ass all day," he says, mostly in a bid to drive the other crazy, and Hanzo _groans_ and jerks his hips harder. Jesse manages to keep talking more or less evenly, by some miracle, but it ain't easy. "Yeah, no, you'd need more. Maybe one in your mouth, too, get you coming and going. Really fuck you stupid." 

"Nnn," Hanzo says, which is definitely not a word but maybe was intended to be. 

"How's that sound?" Jesse says, rolling his hips restlessly and reaching down to wrap a hand around his poor neglected cock. "You like that idea?" 

_"Yes,"_ Hanzo says tightly. 

"Yeah you do," Jesse says. "I'd say you were a good boy but we both know _that's_ a fucking lie." 

"Fucking _hell_ ," Hanzo says, burying his face against his shoulder again. Jesse's pretty close, and bets Hanzo is too. He's lasted pretty well compared to earlier. 

"Don't come," he orders. "Tell me." 

"I need to fuck you," Hanzo says. "I need my cock inside you." 

"Ain't you a lucky son of a bitch, then," Jesse says breathlessly, and then he comes all over his own hand and _groans_ with it, a shudder going up his spine. 

Hanzo jerks his hips to an erratic halt, stuttering to a standstill, and Jesse clenches down around him in . . . not a reward, exactly, but positive reinforcement, at least. Hanzo buries a shaky noise against his shirt. 

"There you go," Jesse says, reaching back and grabbing the other's jaw where he bruised it last time. Hanzo makes another shaky noise. He's practically fucking trembling in place. "Yeah, bet that feels real lousy, huh. Bet you wanna get off so bad." 

"Yes," Hanzo says tightly. 

"Too bad," Jesse says, and pulls away from him. Hanzo grits his teeth around a strangled sound, but lets go of him. Jesse cleans himself up a bit, then starts fixing his clothes. Hanzo does the same, clearly not happy about it, and Jesse watches him do it because he can, and also maybe so it'll make Hanzo just that little bit more uncomfortable. 

Okay, definitely so it'll make Hanzo just that little bit more uncomfortable. 

"So, did you actually have a plan?" Jesse asks. 

"What?" Hanzo manages distractedly. Jesse idly looks at the tent in the other's pants. He feels a bit better about things. 

"A plan," he repeats patiently. "For the mission." 

"I—" Hanzo struggles, visibly, then straightens up and straightens his clothes, clearly trying his good God damnedest to ignore his erection. Jesse wonders if he's still sore from getting fucked, too. "No. I did not." 

"Well you still ain't much use then, are you," Jesse says. Hanzo locks his jaw. Jesse considers making him come in his pants again, just to be a dick. Leaving him all riled up is just too tempting, though. "I'm gonna go check our ETA. Maybe try to think something up while I'm gone." 

"Very well," Hanzo says stiffly, and Jesse leaves him there. 

Just feels better, being the one walking away.


	5. Chapter 5

Jesse and Hanzo work together real good, it turns out, which just fucking figures. 

The mission going tits up, unfortunately, was unavoidable. The intel was bad, their contact double-crossed them, and Talon got their damn worthless selves involved, and any _one_ of those things woulda been a problem, but all three at once . . . 

Well. It’s a good thing they work together real good. 

“Did you get the distress signal off?” Jesse asks, Peacekeeper in hand and still trying to catch his breath from the last mad dash to relative safety they’d just made. 

“Yes,” Hanzo says tensely. “The dropship has been shot down, but Winston informed me reinforcements will be here in an hour. There is a safehouse, but it is on the other side of the river.” 

“Of course it is,” Jesse mutters. The bridge is fucking _covered_ in Talon goons. More than he’d wanna handle with a full squad, much less one ex-yakuza with next to no field experience. Maybe if he had Gabe at his back . . . 

Really ain’t the time to be thinking about that kinda thing. 

“You’ve got a dragon, right?” he asks. 

“Two,” Hanzo says, and Jesse glances heavenwards in thanks. Any other time he’d make a crack about overcompensation, but right now that just sounds like a _gift_. 

“Great,” he says. “How do they work?” 

“They are dragons,” Hanzo says. 

“. . . yeah, but how do they _work_?” 

“Do you want me to show you?” Hanzo says. 

“Yeah, okay,” Jesse says, and that’s how Hanzo clears the whole fucking street with one goddamn arrow, holy shit and Jesus _Christ_. 

Holy _shit_. 

“That is not how Genji’s dragon works,” Jesse says faintly, still blinking the afterimages of light out of his eyes. 

“I use a bow,” Hanzo says as though that is _any_ kind of explanation. “It will be some time before I can do that again, though.” 

“That’s fine,” Jesse says, checking Peacekeeper’s ammo. Four shots left for the moment, which he already knew but don’t hurt to be sure of. He’s got plenty more bullets where those came from, either way, and he’s still got Deadeye up his sleeve. “It’ll be some time ‘til we get to the bridge.” 

“You think we can make it?” Hanzo asks skeptically. 

“I think we ain’t got much choice,” Jesse says. Hanzo grunts in acknowledgement, ‘cause he’s right, and they retreat back into the shadows. Hanzo’s dragons definitely ain’t stealthy, but when there’s nobody left alive to be looking . . . 

They head up the street together, Jesse taking point, wondering how in _hell_ he got himself in this situation with a man he hates, and Hanzo bringing up the rear and probably wondering the same. But they gotta keep each other alive right now, because those reinforcements are an hour out and one man is a lot less likely to live through this mess than two. Jesse ain’t thrilled about it, but it _is_ better than being alone. 

Technically. 

Arguably. 

“McCree,” Hanzo says under his breath, and Jesse turns towards him. Something’s lighting up the street behind them. He grabs Hanzo’s arm and jerks him into the shadows of an alleyway, and they both press into the wall. He can hear the quiet rumble of an engine, and a truck drives past them. It don’t look Talon-issue, but that don’t mean Jesse wants to take chances. 

They stay in the alley for a long moment, making sure the truck’s long gone. Jesse is intimately aware of Hanzo’s arm pressed against his, which is a real stupid thing to be any kind of aware of right now, much less _intimately_. 

He does feel a mite bad, mind. If they died, he didn’t even let Hanzo get off that last time. 

Then again, it’s Hanzo. Does he really care? 

The truck’s engine fades away in the distance, and they return to the empty street. Hanzo looks both ways; Jesse listens. He don’t hear nothing, which is a bit alarming in the middle of a city. They got no way to go but forward, though, so they go. They gotta hide from another car or two, but that ain’t hard. 

“McCree,” Hanzo says. It don’t sound like a warning this time, at least. 

“Yeah?” Jesse’s scanning the street ahead. 

“I am ready to unleash the dragons again,” Hanzo says. 

“Good to know,” Jesse says, eyeing the bridge in the distance. “We’re gonna need ‘em.” 

They head towards the bridge. The city is still silent, and Jesse still ain’t thrilled about that. He keeps waiting for someone to land on their heads, but so far it ain’t happening. They’re getting closer and closer to the main cluster of Talon agents, though, and that is _definitely_ gonna be a fight. 

At least, he hopes the bridge is the main cluster. He’d hate to trip over a _bigger_ one. 

There’s a fucking thought. 

There’s lights up ahead. Jesse stops in his tracks and takes a slow breath. Hanzo narrowly avoids bumping into him. 

“What is that?” he asks suspiciously. He has an arrow nocked. Hopefully it’s the kind that comes with dragons. 

“Probably trouble,” Jesse says, passing his thumb over Peacekeeper’s safety. Deadeye’s brewing under his skin and ain’t gonna be hard to call up. 

“We should go around,” Hanzo says. “We have time.” 

“Go around where?” Jesse snorts. This city’s a damn _maze_ , and he can’t say they’d be able to make it to the bridge if they took a different route. 

“The rooftops?” Hanzo suggests, which ain’t a terrible idea except—

“I ain’t much of a climber,” Jesse says, glancing up warily. 

“Would you rather die?” Hanzo says, and, unfortunately, has a point. 

“I didn’t say _no_ ,” Jesse huffs, looking towards the nearest building. The roofs are all real close together, at least. They might run into a sniper or two, but he bets Hanzo will have a _damn_ good shot at the bridge. 

“I will clear the roof,” Hanzo says, then just fucking—like, _scampers_ up the side of the building, Jesus, what is this parkour shit? Jesse sighs, and goes inside to find the stairs. 

The stairs take some finding, but Jesse gets to the roof alright in the end, and Hanzo is waiting alertly by the door, hidden in the shadows. At least he knows how to sneak, Jesse thinks. God forbid he’d been on this mission with, like, _Reinhardt_. 

“Stay low,” he says. Hanzo nods, and they head across the roof. Hanzo is better at staying low than him, but he’s also a shorter man so Jesse ain’t gonna blame himself for that one. Hanzo is _also_ better at jumping from one roof to the next, which is a bit more of a problem. Jesse don’t wanna be making too much noise up here. 

He does his damnedest, anyway, and nobody shoots him, so that’s about the best he can ask for. They’ve still got too damn long until reinforcements get here, and even if they didn’t said reinforcements are gonna be expecting them at the safehouse, so they’re a bit fucked coming and going. 

Hanzo leaps across to another roof. It ain’t, say, a Genji-level jump, but Jesse ain’t convinced he can make it himself. He don’t have much choice, though, so he takes a breath and then gives himself a running start. 

He overshoots, go figure, and knocks straight into Hanzo and knocks them both over. Hanzo’s bow clatters to the roof, and it is a damn _miracle_ that Peacekeeper don’t go off. 

“Shit,” Jesse mutters as he pushes himself back up. “Sorry.” 

“It is fine,” Hanzo says, at which point Jesse remembers it’s _Hanzo_ and, well, fuck that guy. Hanzo picks up his bow and checks for damage, which is probably smart, and Jesse looks around warily. He don’t see anybody else sneaking, which is some small mercy. Then again, with Talon types, you usually don’t see ‘em sneaking ‘til they’ve already shot somebody. 

He’s just gonna be optimistic, he thinks. Seems like the thing to do and all. 

“We are almost there,” Hanzo says quietly. Jesse cranes his neck until he can just barely see the bridge past the edge of the roofs ahead. It’s probably time to get back on the ground, at least for him. He can’t climb like Hanzo apparently can. 

“I’ll get on the ground, you send the dragons through, and I’ll come through and pick off the stragglers,” Jesse says. “Then we run like hell. Sounds good?” 

“Your gun can only hold six bullets,” Hanzo says warily. “I cannot guarantee only six stragglers.” 

“Trust me, ain’t gonna be a problem,” Jesse says. “Any other concerns?” 

“. . . no,” Hanzo says, still sounding wary and eyeing Peacekeeper skeptically now. Jesse’s a mite offended, frankly. He don’t make promises his gun can’t cash. 

“Good,” he says. “Gimme thirty seconds to get in position, and then go.” 

“Very well,” Hanzo says, nocking an arrow. Again, hopefully it is the dragon kind. Jesse hurries into the building and down the stairs, and comes out into the street in front of the bridge just in time to see a pair of big blue dragons lighting up the sky. The color washes out of the world, and Jesse brings Peacekeeper up and fires. 

There’s more than six targets, but like he said: it ain’t a problem. 

The dragons swan on by, bodies hit the ground, and Hanzo appears next to him suddenly enough that Jesse nearly shoots the bastard. 

“Jesus!” he hisses. “Some _warning_ , Shimada!” 

“We must run,” Hanzo says, and ain’t wrong. They tear ass across the bridge, the dragons curving beautifully in the air overhead as they start to fade away and Jesse hoping real dearly that there ain’t no snipers with a clear shot on their position. This is a risky enough situation as it is. 

They make it across the bridge by some fucking miracle and dive into the shadows of the nearest buildings. Hanzo is breathing heavily; Jesse feels like he’s liable to vomit. The stress ain’t his _favorite_ part of the job. 

It sure has been a while, though. 

Maybe he’s getting too old for this. 

“Keep moving,” he says lowly. 

“McCree!” Hanzo says, which is all the warning Jesse gets before the assassin drops on his head and the enforcers grab Hanzo from behind. 

Well, hell. 

Jesse throws a flash bang at the enforcers’ feet, even knowing it’ll stun Hanzo too—at least Hanzo won’t be _dead_ —and goes down under the assassin’s weight. She cackles triumphantly and tries to put her arm blades through his throat, which ain’t much fun. Jesse manages to hold her back for the moment, but holding her back means he ain’t _shooting_ her and that is a definite problem. Also, she is noisy as _shit_ , and if there’s anybody else around here, they’re gonna come running. 

Jesse nearly dies a couple times, then Hanzo hits the assassin in the face with his bow and sends her reeling, which is a welcome reprieve. Jesse shoots her, which admittedly ain’t too covert, and she falls. He don’t know what Hanzo did the enforcers, but they’re both down too. 

He hears footsteps. 

“Run,” he wheezes as Hanzo drags him to his feet, and they do. 

Yeah. He’s getting too old for this. 

They run, and the footsteps follow them. Jesse can hearing shouting for sure, and it for sure ain’t friendly. He really wishes he had another Deadeye or two in him right now, though he would more than settle for another . . . whatever it is Hanzo does with his dragons, exactly. Might give away their position, admittedly, but at this point he’ll take the risk. He don’t wanna _die_ , so . . . 

They dart down an alley, and the footsteps run past them out in the street. Jesse breathes in heavy gulps and thanks fucking _God_ , ‘cause he ain’t run that hard in a _while_ and don’t got much left in the tank already. 

“They have passed us,” Hanzo says. Jesse nods breathlessly, dropping back against the nearest wall to catch his breath. They can’t stay still long, but he just needs a moment. Maybe two. Three at the absolute max. 

“This is a bad time,” he says. 

“I have had better,” Hanzo agrees. “Are you injured?” 

“No?” Jesse guesses. Nothing hurts too bad, anyway. “You?” 

“I am fine,” Hanzo lies. Jesse would follow up on that, but that’s when the troopers find them and then they have to do a lot more running, and then the fucking heavy _assault_ shows up, and things kind of degrade from there. 

Degrade real bad, for the record. 

“Fuck,” Jesse says. They’re pinned down in a small restaurant lobby by trooper fire and the heavy assault is about to break the door down. He is not feeling great about their chances right now. 

“We are going to die,” Hanzo says, sounding very calm about the idea, the bastard. He’s down to his last two arrows, which ain’t helping Jesse’s estimation of their situation. He’s still got plenty of bullets, but only so many Deadeyes. 

“Yeah, I was really hoping to go out better than this,” he says. His eye is throbbing in pain and his trigger finger’s twitching. “More style, you know? Maybe something a bit heroic?” 

“You are an idiot,” Hanzo says, and Jesse cracks a wry smile. 

“And you’re a shit person to die with,” he says, reloading Peacekeeper. “Though I guess I can at least be content knowing nobody I like is going down with me.” 

“Yes, that is some comfort,” Hanzo says irritably. 

“Fuck you,” Jesse says. 

“If we survive, perhaps,” Hanzo says, and Jesse snorts. The door splinters. 

Yeah, they’re gonna die. 

“Whoever he charges, the other one’s gotta go for the tanks on his back,” Jesse says. “Got that?” 

“Yes,” Hanzo says. 

“Great.” Jesse glances towards the splintering door, then runs to the opposite side of the room. If they’re too close together, he’ll just get them both at once. Hanzo seems to understand what he’s doing, ‘cause he retreats further along his own side. 

The door busts in, and so does the heavy assault. He aims a minigun at Hanzo and fires, then charges Jesse, who don’t have time to hope Hanzo ain’t dead. He tries to roll out of the way, but there ain’t much room in the lobby and he just ain’t fast enough either; the heavy’s charge hits him like a fucking _ram_ and all the air gets knocked out of his lungs at once as he crashes into the wall hard enough to dent the plaster. He manages to hold onto Peacekeeper, but that’s about it. 

Also, it hurts. Holy damn, does it hurt. He might have some broken ribs. 

“Shit,” he just barely manages to choke out, and the heavy puts his gun in his face. 

Well, coming back to Overwatch was nice while it lasted, Jesse figures. 

Something explodes against the heavy’s back, and he turns, swinging his minigun around. Jesse does the stupid thing, which is switch Peacekeeper to his prosthetic hand, plant the muzzle against the nearest tank, and fire. 

Some more exploding happens, _way too close_ to Jesse. Peacekeeper ain’t gonna be firing again today, or at least not anytime soon. His prosthetic might not be working too great either. 

The heavy goes down, so that’s something. 

Now they just got two squads of troopers to get through. 

“ _Please_ tell me you’ve got the dragons again,” Jesse says, ‘cause Deadeye sure as shit ain’t doing anything with Peacekeeper’s barrel split. Hanzo nocks an arrow—his last arrow. The other one’s splintered in the heavy’s back. 

“Get behind me,” Hanzo says tersely, which is hopefully a “yes”. 

“I mean, if somebody’s gotta get shot,” Jesse says, and then the troopers come in the door and _fuck_. He throws a flash bang and bolts behind Hanzo, and Hanzo lifts his bow, and dragons _tear_ out of him and across the floor towards the stunned troopers. There’s screaming. Jesse wonders, briefly, how Hanzo killed Genji. Was it with these dragons? 

This really ain’t the time for wondering that kinda thing. 

“That was my last arrow,” Hanzo says grimly as the surviving troopers get back to their feet. Jesse yanks him behind cover and pulls out another flash bang. He don’t got too many of those left. They can run, but where the hell are they gonna go? That safehouse ain’t gonna stay very safe if they lead a whole platoon of Talon grunts straight to it. 

“Great,” he says. “Just great.” 

“I am glad it is us,” Hanzo says neutrally, looking at his bow. “Dying, I mean.” 

“Yeah, there’s worse options,” Jesse says. Like Genji, for example. He would really not want Genji to be here right now. 

That’s a real ironic thought about two seconds later. 

_“RYUJIN NO KEN WO KURAE!”_

Genji lands in the middle of the surviving troopers, his dragon wrapped around his sword, and tears straight through them. Hanzo runs in with his bow, and Jesse curses after him. What the hell is he gonna do, fucking _hit_ people with it?! 

. . . yes, apparently; Hanzo swings his bow like a club and knocks a trooper right into Genji’s sword, and then hits another hard enough to knock him to the ground. 

Alright then. 

The last body hits the street and Genji’s dragon loops around himself and Hanzo one last time before fading away. They’re left standing back-to-back in defensive stances in the middle of a whole mess of bodies, which Jesse would find either impressive or hot, normally, but he ain’t sure what he finds it right now. 

Confusing, mostly. 

“Jesus, you two,” he says, getting to his feet. “Scared the piss out of me.” 

“Are you both alright?” Genji asks, straightening up. 

“Probably,” Jesse says. He still ain’t sure he don’t got a broken rib or two. 

“I have been shot,” Hanzo says neutrally. 

“You _what_?!” Jesse demands. 

“It is not serious,” Hanzo says. 

“You’ve been fucking _shot_ , it’s serious!” 

“It was a through-and-through. It is hardly bleeding anymore.” 

_“Hardly?!”_

“Perhaps we should find Angela,” Genji says, sheathing his sword. 

“She’s here?” Jesse asks. 

“Yes.” Genji turns his head over his shoulder. “Along with Reinhardt and Torbjorn. We were coming in from the west, but I went ahead when I saw my brother’s dragons in the sky.” 

"That was definitely the right choice," Jesse says. They'd probably be dead by now otherwise, or at least in a real world of hurt. "Though definitely we should go find 'em now." 

"That seems wise," Genji says, and Jesse aches to put his hands on him, but . . . 

Genji's been avoiding him. Presumably he's got a reason. 

“There may be a problem with that idea,” Hanzo says, his eyes flicking upwards. 

“Ah,” Genji says, and Jesse follows Hanzo’s line of sight to find a Talon assassin perched on top of a building on the other side of the street, her head cocked. 

She laughs. 

“Run,” Jesse says immediately. 

“Yes, do that,” Genji agrees, and they bolt. Hanzo ain’t as fast as he could be, but Hanzo’s apparently been _shot_ so Jesse ain’t surprised by that. Genji’s a mile ahead of both of them, meanwhile, because he’s Genji and he moves like a damn blur no matter what. Jesse keeps pace with Hanzo, because getting completely split up ain’t the _best_ idea in the world. 

“I mentioned Peacekeeper’s shot, right, partner?” Jesse calls ahead to Genji, who’s back beside them almost immediately. 

“You did not,” he says, and then, “Look out.” 

The assassin appears out of nowhere, because that’s just how Talon assassins are even when you _know_ where they are, and Genji slashes at her. She blocks with an arm blade, but Genji’s got another sword. 

Of course, she’s also got another arm blade. 

“Damn it!” Genji curses. Hanzo swings his bow between the two of them, and they both leap back. The assassin vanishes, then reappears behind Hanzo and nearly guts him before he throws himself to the ground. 

Oh, no, wait. That’s a _new_ assassin, because the first one’s on top of Genji again. 

“I’m gonna call the others,” Jesse says much more calmly than he feels, going for his communicator. He also takes a moment to pistol-whip the assassin on top of Genji, for obvious reasons. “Mercy? You out there?” 

No answer; just static. 

It woulda been real nice to hear her voice, he thinks. 

“Think the signal might be jammed,” he says, fingering a flash bang as he watches Hanzo and Genji subdue the other assassin. They work pretty good together too, turns out. 

He supposes that makes sense. 

Ironically, and all. 

The enforcers catch up then, so that's the point when things get a mite exciting. Jesse deeply regrets Peacekeeper's condition, and also really wishes he had more flash bangs on him. It ain't a good time. 

Genji takes over, mostly, but Hanzo tries to run in after him like he _ain’t_ largely disarmed. 

"Stay down, you idiot!" Jesse hisses at him, yanking him out of the way right before an enforcer woulda shot him. Hanzo ain't any better off than him in this situation—probably worse, in fact—and the man needs to get out of the damn line of fire already. 

He does not, of course. What he _does_ is jerk away from him and charge into the thick of things, the lunatic. 

"Jesus!" Jesse says, and runs in after him like a damn fool. Hanzo clearly ain't concerned with surviving this mess. Somehow they don't die, though, and Jesse even gets his hands on a rifle, which, well, ain't that nice. 

Well, Talon's about to regret that _real_ bad, he thinks, color bleeding out of the world again as he brings the rifle up. 

It ain't Peacekeeper, but it'll do. 

Jesse fires, and bodies drop. Genji lands next to him, blood on his sword, but don't stay still for a heartbeat before he's bolting at the scant few survivors. Jesse ain’t got another Deadeye in him quite yet, but there’s plenty more rifles on the ground right now. He don’t gotta worry about running out of bullets anytime soon. 

This sure is a fine mess they’ve gotten themselves into. 

“We gotta run,” Jesse manages, catching Hanzo by the arm as the other tries to get past him. There’s blood on his face and his bow. 

“I will not leave my brother,” Hanzo snaps. 

“I ain’t saying do _that_ , you idiot,” Jesse says incredulously, pulling out a flash bang. There ain’t too many enforcers left now, but there’s enough to slow them down, and if they slow down for too long, somebody else might catch up. “Genji! Move!” 

Genji moves, the flash bang hits, and the enforcers stagger back dazed. Jesse shoves Hanzo around the corner and starts running. He’s got a rifle and one last flash bang and not much else, Hanzo’s got a bow with no arrows, and Genji can only take the brunt of the violence for so long. He’s hard to hit, but not impossible, and if somebody hits him . . . 

Yeah, it’s definitely time to run. 

“What do you have?” Genji asks as they do, coming up beside him. 

“A flash bang and a Talon rifle I ain’t entirely certain I’m using right,” Jesse says, throwing a wary look back over his shoulder. “And my charming good looks, of course.” 

Genji lets out a breathless laugh, which startles him. He knows things are different now, but Genji definitely wasn’t the laughing type before. 

“This is not the time for jokes,” Hanzo says grimly, as clearly never the type for _anything_. 

“Deadeye’s ready,” Jesse says. “That more to your liking?” 

“Deadeye?” Hanzo says. 

“The bit where he glows, and then murders everything,” Genji says. 

“Oh,” Hanzo says. “I liked that bit.” 

“Thank you kindly,” Jesse says, tipping his hat. Don’t hurt to be polite, and all. Even to Hanzo. Usually. “Where we headed?” 

“Safehouse,” the other two say in immediate unison. 

“I was hoping for more, oh, a _direction_ . . . ?” 

Genji and Hanzo share a look, and then both grab his arms and pull him into the lee of a convenient building and start arguing in Japanese, which ain’t helpful. 

“Pardon me,” Jesse says. They keep arguing. Jesse barely resists the urge to fire off a bullet, but that wouldn’t be very covert. “I said, _pardon me_ ,” he says, sticking the barrel of his stolen rifle between them. “Something wrong?” 

“We are being pursued,” Hanzo says tersely. “We cannot go to the safehouse yet.” 

“You are still bleeding,” Genji says, and Jesse looks down at the street behind them and indeed, there sure is blood on it. He still ain’t even sure where Hanzo got shot, but it’s dark and he’s wearing dark clothes, so . . . 

“Genji’s got a point,” he says. 

“So do I,” Hanzo says stubbornly. 

“A point, maybe, but not much blood to spare,” Jesse says. “We only got so many places to retreat to here.” 

“And we therefore cannot _waste_ one,” Hanzo argues. 

“Angela?” Genji says into his communicator, then tilts his head. “Still jammed.” 

“Just great,” Jesse mutters. “We gotta lose ‘em before your damn brother bleeds to death. Ideally without leaving a trail of blood right to the safehouse’s front door, mind.” 

“Yes, that would be best,” Genji says dryly as Hanzo glowers at both of them. 

“Steal a car?” Jesse suggests. 

“That is a very ‘you’ idea,” Genji says. 

“So yes, or . . . ?” 

“Yes.” 

They steal a car. Jesse goes for something flashy, mostly just to see if it’ll make Genji laugh again. It does, but he also makes an approving sound. 

Genji insists on driving. Hanzo insists that is a shit idea. Jesse, however, is obviously gonna side with the same Shimada every time, and that Shimada _ain’t_ Hanzo. 

“You will regret this,” Hanzo says darkly from the backseat. 

“It’s been how long since you’ve been in a car with the man?” Jesse says, leaning back in the passenger seat. “I think we’ll survive.” 

“Of course we will,” Genji says lightly, then slams the gas and takes off like a bat out of hell from a dead stop. 

_“JESUS.”_

“I _told_ you.” 

“Genji, sweetheart, please don’t kill us,” Jesse says, the endearment slipping out entirely accidentally as he braces himself in his seat, probably because he is seriously concerned for his life. In his defense, he should be. 

“They do say to drive like you stole it,” Genji says casually, whipping them around a hairpin turn. If Jesse were a few years younger, he’d be delighted. It’s been a good long while since his last joyride, though. 

“Are you turning back?” Hanzo asks with a frown. 

“Please do not be turning back,” Jesse says. 

“I am merely taking the most efficient route,” Genji says. 

“Is this route gonna be _street_ -legal?” Jesse asks. Genji just shrugs. “Oh, lovely.” 

Genji gets them halfway across downtown way too quick, and Jesse don’t wanna say Hanzo was _right_ but it does feel like maybe he lost a couple years off his life somewhere in there. Just a couple, but a maybe _significant_ couple. On the plus side, no one catches up to them, and they ain’t leaving any blood trails anymore. 

Maybe some skid marks on the street, admittedly. 

They get to the safehouse alive and without a tail on their asses, which is all that really matters. Jesse might be a _bit_ too grateful to get out of the car, but at least they’re out and in one piece, avoiding any dark humor about any body parts that were already missing. They hide the car just to be safe, then get inside. Hanzo’s still bleeding and Jesse’s ribs still hurt like a bitch and they may both still be somewhat bruised up from their altercation on the dropship, even, but there’s a decent health pack to handle all that, and after Jesse gets his hands on that thing he feels fresh as a daisy. 

Well, a little sore, but only a little. 

“Are you both feeling better?” Genji asks. It’s a tiny little safehouse, so there ain’t much room in the place—it ain’t much more _than_ a room, in fact—but there’s room enough, Jesse figures. He sure as shit ain’t gonna be picky, anyway. 

“I am fine,” Hanzo says, which probably ain’t a lie but who knows, with Hanzo. 

“Doing just fine myself,” Jesse says, tipping his hat. “You alright, Genji? Need a turn with the health pack?” 

“I am fine,” Genji says. He and Hanzo really do sound _so_ damn alike. Jesse still ain’t over that one. 

“Good to hear,” he says, sitting down on the bed. There ain’t much in here—a bed, a chair, a rug—and he ain’t above picking the most comfortable option, especially since Genji and Hanzo are both still standing. Genji’s at the door; Hanzo’s at the window. Jesse’s exhausted just _looking_ at ‘em. 

He considers saying that, but honestly, he is too damn tired. 

“Still jammed?” Hanzo asks tensely. 

“Still jammed,” Genji confirms. Hanzo mutters a curse. “The others know where the safehouse is. They will meet us here.” 

“Or they will die,” Hanzo says. 

“Thank you for being the shining beacon of optimism we all know you to be, Shimada,” Jesse says dryly. “If they ain’t here in the morning, we’ll worry ‘bout that then.” 

“We should worry now,” Hanzo says. 

“We are safe, for now,” Genji says. “There is only one thing that I am worried about.” 

“There is?” Jesse turns towards him automatically, just as the other comes over to him and catches him by the face with both hands. Jesse blinks up at him, a little surprised by the contact. It’s awful intimate, considering how Genji’s been acting. “Uh. Genji?” 

“Jesse,” Genji says, and Jesse about melts at the way he says it. He don’t care about nothing else, so long as Genji will say his name like that. 

It does make him wonder why the other’s been avoiding him, if he’s still willing to do that, but . . . 

“You are certain you are alright?” Genji says. 

“Right as rain,” Jesse promises, hooking his hands around the other’s wrists. 

“I am very glad to hear that,” Genji says, leaning down. Jesse leans up in turn, pressing their foreheads together. It might be taking liberties, but if Genji’s close enough to touch, well, then Jesse’s gonna touch him. That’s just how it’s gonna be. 

Genji leans into the contact, so Jesse figures he’s alright. 

“I’m real glad you turned up,” Jesse says. Genji hums, quietly, then leans back and drops his hands away. Jesse catches them in his own and squeezes, and Genji squeezes back. 

“It has been some time since I saw Deadeye,” he says. 

“Yeah, guess so,” Jesse says. He keeps his grip on Genji’s hands, mostly because he was pretty sure he was gonna die tonight and could use the anchor, just for a bit. As long as Genji’s willing to provide it, anyway. “Missed it?” 

“I always miss you, Jesse,” Genji says, which is actually a bit much to hear and honestly makes something in Jesse _bleed_. He tightens his grip on Genji’s hands. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Me too.” 

Genji leans down again and presses their foreheads together and reclaims his hands to cup Jesse’s face, and Jesse puts his hands on his hips and hopes he’ll stay. He ain’t gonna be picky about any of the rest of it, so long as Genji ain’t going nowhere too far. 

He wants to touch the other everywhere, learn every piece of this new unfamiliar armor and whatever else Genji’s willing to show him, lay him down and treat him right. He wants to say all that, too, but the words are stuck in his throat and won’t quite come out. 

He don’t wanna chase him off again neither, is the thing. 

“Yes,” Genji says for no apparent reason, and then sort of . . . sags, a bit, and ends up mostly in his lap, curling in on himself. Jesse wraps his arms around him, wanting him to stay. 

“Are you injured?” Hanzo says, because apparently _that’s_ the only reason somebody’d be in somebody else’s lap, Jesus, is the man stupid? 

“I thought you would be dead,” Genji says, putting his head on Jesse’s shoulder. “Both of you.” 

“What?” Jesse says. Yeah, those dragons had been their last-ditch last effort, but Genji hadn’t known that. “Why would you think that?” 

“Because I have not spoken to either of you in a week,” Genji says. “I thought the last thing I would’ve said to you would be . . . useless. As soon as I heard the distress signal, I just . . .” 

“We’re fine, Genji,” Jesse says. “Both of us.” 

“You almost _did_ die,” Genji says. “If we had been slower . . .” 

“You were not,” Hanzo says. “Do not be foolish.” 

“Oh, like _you_ weren’t convinced we were dead,” Jesse says, shooting him a nasty look. “Let the man be, for Christ’s sake.” 

“He is right,” Genji says, shaking his head. “I am being foolish. I just . . . I was worried.” 

“That ain’t foolish,” Jesse says. “It’s a damn distress signal, anybody’d worry.” 

“I was afraid you would die upset with me,” Genji says, tilting his head so his mask presses against the side of Jesse’s neck and wrapping an arm around him. “After . . . everything.” 

“Are you kidding?” Jesse asks. “You are the damn _last_ person I am upset with right now. Or ever. Pretty much always. I think the last time I got upset with you was that time you stabbed me in Rialto, and honestly I could see your point on that one.” 

Genji laughs, quietly. Jesse feels liable to burst at the sound of it. 

“It was foolish,” Genji says again. “I just . . . there are still things I want to tell you.” 

“There are?” Jesse says, like an idiot. 

“Yes,” Genji says, and cups his face in his hands and leans into him. Jesse wraps his arms around him tighter, not sure what exactly Genji’s doing but willing to let him do just about anything either way. Genji knocks him over, and his hat falls off his head and his back hits the mattress. “So many things.” 

“Yeah?” Jesse continues to sound like an idiot. Genji tilts his head in a very familiar way and Jesse kisses the corner of his mask, because _that_ at least he can do right. He puts his hands on the other’s hips again, and Genji presses into the contact. It feels real nice, having the other’s weight on top of him like this. Genji don’t weigh too much—Angela built him light, and his upgrades have, apparently, made him even lighter—but Jesse ain’t complaining. It’s still Genji. 

And again, he just wants Genji to stay. 

“Yes,” Genji says, trailing a hand down his chest. Jesse can’t feel it through the body armor, but he don’t mind. “Did you sleep with Hanzo again?” 

. . . alright, that ain’t _quite_ where he thought this was going. 

“Fucked, yeah,” he says, catching Genji’s hand and pressing a kiss against the back of it. “I won’t do it again.” 

“That is not what I meant,” Genji says, shaking his head, and Jesse frowns a bit. “I just wanted to know. You both had . . .” He gestures to his own neck. “Marks.” 

“It don’t bother you?” Jesse asks carefully, because he ain’t sure how Genji feels about a lot of things and this is pretty much top of the list. 

“I just wanted to know,” Genji repeats, and presses his mask against Jesse’s throat. Jesse starts to say something else, still a mite confused, but then Genji starts unfastening his body armor for him and, well—priorities. Hanzo don’t take precedence over Genji wanting him out of his armor. Ain’t much Hanzo _does_ take precedence over, when it’s about Genji. 

Jesse strips off his chestplate and Genji immediately starts unbuttoning his shirt, so he strips out of that too, and then the other’s moving onto unzipping his pants and, well, if Genji wants him naked, he’s only gotta ask. Ain’t like it’s much Hanzo ain’t seen before, and ain’t like he cares about Hanzo being there either. The other can keep creeping by the window all he likes, in fact. 

“I am so glad you are alright,” Genji says as Jesse kicks off his boots and pants, his hands tracing lightly on his chest. 

“Perfectly so,” Jesse promises, craning up to kiss the corner of the other’s mask again. Genji makes a low noise, flattening his palms against his chest, and Jesse pushes up into them. Genji ain’t taken off a lick of his armor, but Jesse don’t mind a little armor in the way. There’s way worse things than that, and he still wants to touch him everywhere. 

Everywhere Genji’ll let him, at least. 

“I really did miss you,” Jesse says, and Genji makes another low noise and smooths his hands up over his collarbones. “I mean it. I miss you all the time. Can’t even explain how good it is just _seeing_ you again.” 

“I am different,” Genji says quietly, trailing a hand up to cup the side of Jesse’s jaw, and Jesse nuzzles into it. 

“Ain’t subtle, darlin’,” he says with a wry smile. 

“I suppose not,” Genji murmurs. “But you . . . you’ve hardly changed at all, Jesse.” 

“Maybe a bit,” Jesse says, covering the back of the other’s hand with his prosthetic. It ain’t such a big thing, he knows, especially not compared to Genji, but it’s a change all the same. “Maybe I’m just a bit bogged down in the past, though.” 

“No,” Genji says, shaking his head. “You are wonderful. There is no reason for you to change.” Jesse laughs a little, squeezing the other’s hand. 

“Little late to be flattering me, sweetheart, you’ve already got me out of my pants,” he says. 

“Call me that again,” Genji says. 

“Sweetheart,” Jesse repeats, and Genji . . . sighs, a bit, and leans down over him again. Jesse wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him even closer. Genji runs a hand down his side and hooks it under his knee, tugging it up. Jesse wraps his leg around his back and pushes his mouth into his neck, and Genji wraps a hand around his cock and gives it a stroke. 

“You are too good to me,” he says, and Jesse huffs out a laugh. 

“I ain’t done a thing, darlin’,” he says. 

“You have done many things,” Genji says, stroking his cock again. “This is the least of them.” 

“Is it?” Jesse asks doubtfully, because he really don’t know what the other’s talking about, and Genji hides his face against his neck. 

Well. His mask. But same difference, honestly. 

Genji keeps stroking him, which is a bit hard not to concentrate on right now, and Jesse buries a grunt in his shoulder, pushing up into him. Genji grips him tighter, and honestly Jesse could use a bit more lubrication to be getting on with things here but he ain’t gonna complain about it. It’s Genji, and he’s touching him, and everything else is secondary. He don’t need anything else. 

When has he ever? 

It don’t take long before he’s coming all over himself, either way. Jesse drops his head back against the bed with a groan and Genji makes a soft noise, tilting his head to look down at his cock as he works him through the last aftershocks of his orgasm. Jesse might say something, usually, but right now he’s a bit too busy shuddering his way through things. 

“You are beautiful,” Genji says in this strange, tender voice, and Jesse laughs. He don’t even know how to _compute_ Genji saying something like that, much less the tone he said it in. 

“I’m alright, I guess,” he says casually, tugging the other down so he can kiss his mask again. Genji lets him, which feels real, real sweet. 

“You are,” Genji says. Jesse catches his come-sticky hand and licks it clean for him. He wonders if he’s ever gonna see Genji’s eyes again. He’s used to not seeing the rest of his face, but . . . well, he misses his eyes. 

He don’t ask, obviously. 

“Can I touch you?” he says instead, dropping a kiss into the other’s palm. “I wanna get my hands on you real bad.” 

“You do not need to,” Genji says, shaking his head. 

“This is less a ‘need’ and more a ‘want’, darlin’,” Jesse says, raising an eyebrow at him. Genji tilts his head. 

“I just mean it is not necessary,” he says. “You do not need to do anything.” 

“I want to do anything you’ll let me,” Jesse says, smoothing a hand up the other’s side. “Ain’t picky about the details.” 

“Mm,” Genji says. He puts a hand on Jesse’s stomach. He should probably wipe the come off himself, clean up a bit, but he’s mostly occupied with watching Genji. 

“You alright?” he says. It’s hard to tell, but Genji seems . . . off, a bit. 

“Yes,” Genji says, his fingers curling on Jesse’s stomach. “I am fine.” 

“Okay,” Jesse says, because he might doubt that a little but he don’t wanna push him on it neither. He covers the back of his hand with his own again. “I like the green, by the way. Suits you.” 

“Does it?” Genji sounds amused. “I used to dye my hair green, when I was young. It is my favorite color.” 

“That’s . . . adorable, actually,” Jesse says, because the _last_ thing he ever expected to learn about Genji was what his favorite color was, unless “blood” counted. Genji laughs. 

“Hanzo hated it,” he says. 

“You looked ridiculous,” Hanzo says. 

“Yes, so you said. Many times,” Genji says, turning towards him. He still sounds amused. Jesse still wants to touch him everywhere, but Genji don’t seem to want touched much at all. Jesse’s always wanted to touch Genji more than Genji’s wanted touched, though, so he’s used to restraining that kinda thing. “You never did very much with your hair, did you.” 

“Why would I?” Hanzo says. Genji shrugs lightly. 

“I do not know,” he says. “Why not?” 

“You are in a strange mood,” Hanzo says, frowning. 

“You really cannot say you know my moods any longer, can you?” Genji says. 

“Does anyone?” Hanzo asks. 

“My master, certainly,” Genji says. “But probably no one else, at the moment.” 

“I am entirely willing to learn, for the record,” Jesse says, catching the back of the other’s elbow. Genji laughs, very quietly. Jesse still ain’t used to it, but like he said, he’d gladly learn to be. Genji just keeps doing it like it’s _easy_ , or at least like it ain’t particularly hard. “That might be the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard you make, for the record.” 

“Is it?” Genji says. “It is only a laugh.” 

“Yeah,” Jesse says, squeezing his elbow. “A real pretty one.” 

Genji hums. Jesse’s starting to wonder if it means something when he does that. He does it a whole lot more than he ever used to, at least. 

“Come here, brother,” Genji says. 

“Why?” Hanzo asks, though he gets up and comes over anyway. 

“Why not?” Genji says again, grabbing his elbow and tugging him down to sit beside them. 

“Not to jump to no conclusions here, but if this is another thing about what you can’t do . . .” Jesse starts warily, propping himself up on his elbows. Genji plants a hand on his chest and pushes him back down. 

“It is not,” he says. “At least, not that way.” 

“So what is it?” Jesse asks. 

“I want to make you feel good,” Genji says. 

“You do,” Jesse says, immediate and automatic. Genji makes him feel a lot of things, and “good” is just about always one of them. 

“Better, then,” Genji says, trailing his hand down his stomach. “Hanzo.” 

“What do you want me to do?” Hanzo says, folding his arms. 

“You _do_ know how to make someone feel good, do you not?” Genji says, sounding amused again. Hanzo scowls. 

“I mean, he don’t give the _best_ blowjobs I ever had. And his stamina’s pretty shit, too,” Jesse says frankly, not really sure if he’s into this idea or not and even less sure what has Genji suggesting it. Hanzo turns his scowl on him instead. “What? If I ain’t honest with you, you’ll never improve.” 

“You should watch your mouth,” Hanzo says. 

“Now I _know_ you don’t mean that,” Jesse drawls. Hanzo’d liked him running his mouth way too much, and he’d bet Peacekeeper on that. 

Honestly, though, he still just wants to touch Genji, and he ain’t sure why the other only seems to want _him_ getting touched. He’s done harder things than get spoiled in bed, though, so he’ll deal with it. 

“I very much do,” Hanzo says. Jesse idly considers reminding him what a fucking slut he is in front of Genji, but ain’t feeling _quite_ that mean. At the moment, anyway. 

“Do you have lube?” Genji says. “And condoms.” 

“I actually do not,” Jesse says. “Used ‘em on the dropship.” 

“I do,” Hanzo says, which does _not_ convince Jesse he ain’t a fucking slut. Who the hell packs condoms and lube on a _mission_? 

. . . look, he never said he weren’t a bit of a slut himself, now did he. 

“Would you like us to take turns, or would you rather have us both at once?” Genji says. 

“Ngh,” Jesse says, his brain blanking out a bit at that one. That is . . . that sure is something, isn’t it. 

“You could fuck us, or we will fuck you,” Genji says, like thinking of _options_ is the problem here. “Or we can do both at once.” 

“Oh, you know, whatever’s good for you,” Jesse manages, slightly strangled. Genji looks at Hanzo, who looks back at him. If they’re actually communicating somehow, Jesse does _not_ recognize it. 

After a moment, Genji tilts his head and Hanzo reaches into his belt and tosses a couple of condoms and a little tube of lube on the bed. Jesse ain’t entirely certain what to say. Genji picks up the lube and pops it open, and Jesse is very, very distracted by the sight of him slicking up his gloved fingers. It is . . . it is a sight, alright. 

“You can fuck Hanzo, and I will fuck you,” Genji says. “How does that sound?” 

“I’m sure I’ll be able to stand it,” Jesse says as his mouth goes dry, feeling a bit weak. “If you insist, and all.” 

Genji laughs, then tosses the lubricant back to Hanzo. They all reposition a bit on the bed, and Jesse finds himself laying on his back next to Hanzo with Genji on top of him. It’s . . . weird, honestly. He still ain’t sure he likes it. 

His _dick_ sure does, mind. His dick is all about this situation. It ain’t complaining at all. 

“This ain’t the most normal thing I ever done in the bedroom, for the record,” he says, watching Hanzo unfasten his boots and belt. 

“Do you want to stop?” Genji asks. 

“Not even slightly,” Jesse says, because he ain’t a damn _fool_ and also because he’ll take Genji any way he can get him, always. Genji hums, then reaches down and rubs the pad of a finger against his hole. Jesse grunts, automatically spreading his thighs and a little startled when he feels bare skin against—

Right. Hanzo, he remembers, glancing over at the other again. Hanzo’s out of his boots and pants and underwear, and it’s his thigh Jesse’s is pressing against. Their shoulders are practically touching too. Hanzo ain’t taken off his shirt, but he’s in the process of tugging the scarf out of his hair. Jesse feels a little less naked with somebody else taking their clothes off, funnily enough, despite the fact that he is definitely the most naked one here. 

Genji presses his finger into him, and Jesse stops caring about Hanzo. It ain’t remotely important compared to Genji touching him. 

“Ah,” he says, and Genji crooks his finger. _“Ah.”_

“Good?” Genji asks. 

“Good,” Jesse confirms, and Genji hums again and rocks his finger inside him. Hanzo pops the lid of the lube and presumably gets to slicking himself up too, but Jesse’s still more occupied with the unnecessarily careful way Genji’s working his fingers into him. In his defense, he can’t imagine who wouldn’t be. Ain’t no comparison. 

Genji takes his time about things. Jesse gets real overwhelmed real quick, even just getting fingered. Genji’s _good_ at this, even better than he remembered, and the way he’s taking his time is real, real distracting. 

“Are you ready?” Genji says, though he ain’t talking to Jesse. 

“Mm,” Hanzo says with a sharp nod. Jesse glances over again and does have to admit the man looks good stretching himself, but that don’t exactly make him like him any more. 

Though they did just save each other’s lives a couple times, he supposes, so maybe he should at least hate him a little less. 

Maybe. 

“Good,” Genji says, reclaiming his fingers and picking up one of the condoms to tear open. He rolls it onto Jesse’s cock for him, and Jesse feels a bit beside himself. 

“You make that look real good, sweetheart,” he says. 

“I used to be able to do it with my mouth,” Genji says musingly as he slicks a little extra lube on, which nearly shorts something out in Jesse’s brain because God _damn_ , did he even hear that right? God _damn_. 

Seriously, fuck Hanzo. 

. . . aside from literally, he means. 

“So how’s this gonna go?” Jesse asks, glancing at Hanzo again. The other looks back at him for a moment, then just shrugs and rolls on top of him. Genji huffs out a laugh as he makes room. 

“Direct as ever, brother,” he says. 

“There is no point in wasting time,” Hanzo says, and sits down on Jesse’s cock. He is _tight_. 

“Ngh!” Jesse chokes, hands flying to the other’s thighs. They flex under his hands once, then Hanzo starts moving his hips with brutal efficiency. Jesse curses up a blue streak, barely keeping his prosthetic from gripping the other too hard as his hips jack up reflexively. 

It feels real, real good. 

“It is nice to see you two getting along,” Genji says. Jesse will get along with _anyone_ for Genji, even Hanzo. At least, for a given value of “getting along”. 

“We are capable of getting along,” Hanzo grunts, shifting the angle of his hips to let Jesse in deeper. 

“I assumed, since you have managed to have sex,” Genji says. “I have not seen it, however.” 

“I think this counts, darlin’,” Jesse just barely manages, trying not to claw too hard at Hanzo’s thighs but not having much luck. “Jesus, you are _so_ up for it, ain’t you, Shimada.” 

“Mm,” Hanzo says neutrally, and moves his hips faster. Jesse can hardly stand it, knocking his head back with a loud groan. He feels this close to coming already, especially after the way Genji took his time with him, but he ain’t gonna come without Genji fucking him first. For one thing, he really wants fucked. For another, he don’t want Genji getting any more wrong ideas about him and Hanzo. 

“Slow _down_ , you fucking whore,” he grunts breathlessly, then shoves up into Hanzo and knocks him off his cock and onto his back as he clambers on top of him. He shoves back into the other immediately, and Hanzo lets out a loud gasp as his dick slides home. Jesse thrusts, deep and slow, and Hanzo starts saying _something_ in Japanese, but not much that Jesse recognizes. There’s definitely a fair amount of cursing involved, though. “Genji—” 

“Jesse,” Genji hums, and kneels behind them. Jesse hears something click. “Are you ready?” 

“Get _in_ me,” Jesse pants, barely able to hold his hips still for the other. Hanzo’s making some real whiny sounds about it. 

“Gladly,” Genji says, and pushes into him easily. Jesse groans, pushing back into him. Hanzo _whines_. 

“Shut _up_ ,” Jesse says, but the bastard don’t, of fucking course. Genji snaps his hips in _hard_ and Jesse curses, jerking forward. Hanzo makes a real breathy sound and rolls his own hips up greedily. He don’t deserve the attention, some part of Jesse thinks, but also he _did_ get shot tonight and they _did_ nearly die, so . . . 

It takes a moment to find a good rhythm, but they work it out well enough in the end, ‘til they’re all moving together even better than any of them’d _fought_ together and Jesse is immediately and completely this close to losing it all over again. Genji’s cock feels even better than he remembers, and Hanzo’s so fucking _tight_ , and the two of them are clinging to him, Hanzo’s nails scratching up his back and Genji’s hands all over him. 

It is . . . it is a fucking _lot_. 

_“Jesus,”_ Jesse gasps out, and Hanzo puts his mouth in his neck and his nails in his skin and Genji strokes his sides and back. Jesse just does his damnedest to keep up with the pace they’re setting, because it is very definitely the two of them in charge of setting the pace. He flashes back to the sight of them back to back with Genji’s dragon curving around them like they’d never been anything but on the same side, and wonders if they’ve ever done this with somebody else. It seems _real_ likely, given how easy they move and how they manage not to trip each other up at all, but it’s hard to picture all the same. 

Well, he don’t really know what Genji looked like before he was a cyborg, so that’s probably part of that. 

Jesse exhales roughly, trying to keep it together and keep up the pace, but the other two are being fucking _ruthless_ with him. Hanzo’s greedy as hell and Genji’s relentlessly demanding and the two of them combined ain’t exactly a merciful combination. 

"Your cock, oh, oh, oh," Hanzo gasps out roughly, shifting his hips into a better angle and _moaning_ when Jesse slides in deep. He says something dizzy-sounding in Japanese, and Genji laughs and says something back. Jesse would do a _lot_ to know what the fuck they're saying, but it may be better for his stamina that he can't, he suspects. It's bad enough just hearing their fucking _tones_. 

"Gonna fucking _kill_ me," he says, and Genji laughs again, breathless and light. Jesse is about beside himself. He has no idea why Genji thought this was a good idea but it definitely _feels_ good; it definitely does that. 

Maybe that's literally the only logic behind it, but all things considered, they coulda gone about this in a _lot_ of simpler ways. Involving Hanzo is just . . . 

Really weird, even if still feeling really fucking good. 

He could always ask, he figures, but it really ain't the time. Right now he can barely string a sentence together in his _head_ , much less out loud. 

More specifically, right now he's gonna fucking come. He's gonna fucking lose his _mind_ , then come. 

"Gonna come," he pants out breathlessly, and Genji hums quietly and leans against his back, snapping his hips in harder. 

"Good," he says. "I want to see." 

He is damn well _about_ to. 

"Not yet," Hanzo protests, and Jesse buries his face in the other's shoulder with a groan. There is no damn way he's holding out any longer, they're still both moving into and around him just as ruthlessly and he is just a _man_ , dammit. 

"Genji, Genji, _Genji_ ," he moans reflexively, fisting his hands in the sheets and shuddering roughly. Hanzo whines again, and Genji lets out a soft, achy sigh and nuzzles the back of his neck, covering his hands with his own. Jesse feels too good, too _much_ , and yeah, no, he ain't lasting much longer. He ain't lasting much longer at _all_. 

He comes, because he can't fucking _not_ , and comes shuddering and shaking and this close to falling apart entirely. He says some things, probably, but if it's anything besides Genji's name, he don't know what it was. Genji wraps his arms around him and fucks into him a few more times, so he feels overstimulated and achy and too much, and then comes too with a low sigh of his name that makes him shudder even harder. 

Hanzo makes a dissatisfied sound, worming a hand between their bodies to wrap around his own cock even as Jesse's softening one slips out of him. Jesse looks down languidly and watches him jerk himself off. He ain't nice about it, but when is Hanzo ever nice about anything? No surprise he'd treat his dick just as bad as he treats everything else. 

"You look like you still want a cock in you," Jesse says distractedly, and Hanzo bites his lip. It looks painful. Jesse'd bite it too, but he ain't gonna kiss the bastard _now_. Hanzo comes, and that looks painful too, like it got torn out of him despite himself. Jesse considers saying something to . . . either of them, really, but his muscles feel like jelly and it's a lot easier to just sort of collapse onto the bed and go limp against it. Genji lays down beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist, and Hanzo just stays where he is, breathing heavily. 

This was _definitely_ not the most normal thing Jesse's ever done in a bedroom, he reflects as he gets rid of the condom. Genji's right here, though, weird and fucking strange as everything else was, so he ain't gonna complain. Anything's better than Genji avoiding him. 

They probably need to talk about some shit, though. 

He's gonna at least enjoy his afterglow for a bit first, though, so Jesse closes his eyes and just lays there quietly, listening to Genji's respirator. It's a little louder than Hanzo's breathing. Hanzo murmurs something in Japanese, and Genji murmurs something back, and Jesse just lets it all wash over him without worrying what it's about. Language he don't know? That's somebody else's problem, then. 

He's almost drifted off when Hanzo sits up, and he cracks open an eye grudgingly, just in case that's an "I heard someone coming" kind of thing. Hanzo don't move, though, and don't go for either his clothes or his weapon, so apparently not. He just sits there. 

"You ever relax?" Jesse says. 

"No," Hanzo says, which is probably true. 

"You are a mess, partner," Jesse says frankly. 

"I am as I must be," Hanzo says. 

"You don't gotta be like that in Overwatch, genius," Jesse says. Hanzo turns to look down at him. 

"What else can I be?" he says. 

Yeah, that's a lot to ask somebody who still mostly hates you, Jesse thinks. 

"Sounds like a personal question," he says. 

"What else do you _want_ to be, brother?" Genji asks. His head wound up on Jesse's shoulder at some point, which ain't super comfortable but also ain't something Jesse would change come hell or high water. He puts a hand on the back of the other's head absently, and Genji hums at him. 

Jesse wonders if that's something he does when he's pleased and wants to get the point across. It seems like maybe it is. 

"It is very late," Hanzo says, looking out the window. "Should we be looking for the others?" 

"You are out of arrows and Jesse's gun is damaged," Genji says. "You would not be very helpful if you were killed or captured." 

"We should be doing something," Hanzo says restlessly. 

"When do you wanna do anything besides fight or fuck, Shimada?" Jesse snorts. Far as he can tell, that's Hanzo's entire personality. "We can't do nothing for 'em right now." 

"But we should be," Hanzo says, and Jesse sighs. 

"C'mere," he says, looping a hand around the inside of the other's elbow and tugging. Ain't like he likes worrying about the others either, and he actually _knows_ them, and has since he was seventeen. Hanzo's got nothing on him right now, for "we should be"s. Genji ain't wrong, though. 

Hanzo follows his tugging right up until Jesse tries to pull him on top of him, at which point he hesitates. Jesse gives him a _look_ , and then he goes, ending up straddling his thighs. Jesse sighs, and just looks at him a little bit longer. Hanzo is a sweaty, rumpled mess who looks way too unhappy for a guy who just got off, and Jesse is just . . . he is not having it. Just, no. Fuck that. 

"Where's that other condom?" he says. 

"Here," Genji says, picking it up to show him. Jesse takes it from him. 

"Thanks," he says. 

"Why do you need another condom?" Hanzo asks, and Jesse gives him a dubious look. 

"Where are you sitting, Shimada?" he asks, then tosses the condom at his chest. "Stop worrying about shit we can't do anything about and get on my dick." 

"That is not helpful," Hanzo says, though he picks up the condom. 

"Neither are you, but you don't hear me whining," Jesse says, making a point of giving his cock a real meaningful tug. Hanzo stares at it, because Hanzo is so, so fucking easy. Genji hums. "Well?" 

"You are impossible," Hanzo says, but wraps his hand around Jesse's cock himself and strokes. Jesse's glad he's getting on board. 

"So you've said," he says, shifting his hips to settle in more comfortably against the mattress. "Since when do you turn down free dick?" 

"Do not be difficult about this," Hanzo says. 

"Whore," Jesse says, and Hanzo glowers at him. Genji makes a questioning sound. "Don't worry, sweetheart, he likes it." 

"I do not," Hanzo lies like he ain't already rolling the condom on him; like he ain't fucking eyeing his dick like it's a fucking _present_. 

"Sure you don't," Jesse snorts. 

"Fuck you," Hanzo says, then moves up his body to sit down on his cock without even pretending to be interested in anything else. He hisses and Jesse grunts, putting a hand on his hip. 

"Other way around, ain't it?" he says. "You don't gotta play coy, Shimada, you can just ask." 

"Shut up, McCree," Hanzo bites off, bracing his hands on Jesse's stomach as he starts to move. It _still_ sounds just like Genji always said it. 

"Always telling me to shut up but always so fucking thirsty for it," Jesse says, rubbing the other's hip. Hanzo grunts in irritation, but don't say nothing else. "Yeah, just like always." 

"Always?" Genji says. 

"Always so far, anyway," Jesse says. Hanzo glowers at him again, but he don't stop fucking himself on his cock. He ain't moving as greedy as before, but he sure as shit's as _tight_ as before. "Not sure you wanna know as much about your brother's kinks as I do, though." 

"Honestly, I was not aware any existed," Genji says. 

"Must you have this conversation right now?" Hanzo says irritably. 

"You'd rather I just talk about how bad you want dick, you repressed bastard?" Jesse says, raising an eyebrow at him. Hanzo's glower darkens, but he still don't stop moving so Jesse ain't feeling particularly cowed. 

"This is not the place," Hanzo says. 

"You actually mean that or you just playing hard to get again?" Jesse says, cocking his head. "Because you _suck_ at playing hard to get, for the record." 

"I am not interested in your opinion," Hanzo says shortly, then snaps his hips down. Jesse groans. Genji hums. 

"Yeah, that's a lie," Jesse says breathlessly. He rolls his hips up to meet Hanzo's next roll of his own, and Hanzo lets out a shocky little cry and digs his knees into the bed. He fucks down urgently, and Jesse keeps matching him; gives him what he's so obviously after. 

They did almost die today and all. 

"McCree, McCree, _McCree_ ," Hanzo chokes, and Jesse ain't even working particularly hard here or nothing. "Harder, harder—" 

"So easy," Jesse says, rubbing the small of the other's back and getting another strangled little cry out of him on the next thrust of his hips. He'd probably find it cute, in a different partner. With Hanzo it's just a thing. 

_"McCree,"_ Hanzo groans, snapping his hips down harder again. 

"Tell me more about how you ain't into it, go on," Jesse says. "I wanna hear all about how little interest you got in getting fucked." 

"I want it," Hanzo says, breathless and needy and yeah, _so_ greedy. He fucking _squirms_ in Jesse's lap, rocking his hips down desperately. Jesse thinks about rolling them over and folding him in half, but he kinda likes leaving the work to Hanzo. 

Then again, he might be able to get him _real_ noisy if he does that. 

It's tempting, put it that way. 

"What do you want?" he asks. 

"Your cock," Hanzo says immediately. "I want it, I want it in me, I want it to _come_ in me." 

"Good news," Jesse says, then flips them again after all and snaps his cock in _deep_. Hanzo moans, grabbing the sheets with one hand and Jesse's back with the other. He wraps his legs around him tight and clings to him, and Jesse braces himself and fucks him as fast and as merciless as he can, over and over and harder and harder. 

Hanzo fucking _wails_. 

Jesse feels pretty good about that. 

"McCree McCree McCree _MCCREE_ —!" 

Yeah. He definitely feels good about that. 

"Tell me," Jesse says, and Hanzo moans louder and throws his head back and fucking _squirms_ again. 

"I need your cock, fuck me, fuck me, come in me," he rattles off roughly, digging his nails in against Jesse's back. "I need it right _now_ , do not stop, please, please—"

"Oh, we say please now?" Jesse asks. 

_"Please!"_

"Since you asked so nice," Jesse says. "You gonna come like this? Better hope so, I'm not gonna let you touch your dick this time." 

"I am, I am, I will!" Hanzo gasps out, nodding desperately and clawing harder at his back. 

"Good," Jesse says, then buries his mouth in the other's throat and bites up it sharply, bringing a hand up to pinch and tug at one of his nipples. Hanzo moans even louder, and Jesse squeezes his pec. "Fucking whore. Gonna make you come all over yourself. Gonna make you fucking _gag_ for it, make you want it so bad you don't care who hears you." 

"I do not care, I do not, just keep _fucking_ me," Hanzo pleads, pushing up into Jesse's hips and hands. Jesse bites down on his throat again, and Hanzo cries out. "Oh! Oh, oh, _oh_ —" 

"Tell me," Jesse orders. 

"I need you to fuck me, keep fucking me!" Hanzo cries, so Jesse does. He leans into Hanzo as heavy as he can and fucks him as _deep_ as he can and bites his throat and twists his nipples and don't take his hands off him, not even for a moment. Hanzo keeps crying out louder and louder, 'til his voice is practically cracking, and Jesse presses his mouth in behind the other's ear. 

"Good whore," he murmurs, and Hanzo comes with a _sob_. 

Jesse don't stop fucking him, obviously, and Hanzo don't stop clinging to him. He makes these fucking _noises_ with every thrust, and if Jesse could fuck him any harder, he would be. He thrusts as deep and quick as he can, lets his orgasm well up in his gut, and don't bother worrying about making it good for Hanzo anymore because Hanzo clearly don't care about that. 

He hears a familiar hum, and glances over at Genji. He can't tell what the other's looking at, exactly, but his face is turned their way. He really is the most damn beautiful thing Jesse thinks he's ever seen. 

Genji hums again, then reaches out and puts a hand on his face. 

Jesse comes with a low, drawn-out groan, and don't bother looking back to Hanzo for it. Or can't bring himself to take his eyes off Genji, more like. 

Why would he, anyway? 

He shudders roughly, locking his elbows to keep himself from falling onto Hanzo, and Genji shifts in close and strokes his hair back out of his eyes and cups his face in his hands and leans in to press their foreheads together. Jesse lets his eyes fall shut, just feeling it. Genji is so . . . just, so many things. 

He really can't explain what Genji is. The other's in full armor and ain't taken a damn thing off, wanted him to fuck his _brother_ , laughs where he would've snapped or snarled before, avoided him for a week for reasons he still ain't explained, saved his life a dozen times . . . 

He really can't explain what Genji is, no. 

"You are wonderful," Genji says. Hanzo's panting, struggling to get his breathing under control. Jesse knows the feeling. 

"Thank you kindly," he says, though he really ain't sure how any of that earned him a "wonderful". He pulls back from Hanzo, who moans in disappointment—flattering, a bit—and gets rid of the condom, then starts looking around for something to clean them both up with. 

Then Genji wraps his arms around his neck, so that distracts him from that. 

“Mm?” Jesse shifts all his attention to the other. 

“Jesse,” Genji says, pressing his face into his neck and gripping him tight. Jesse ain’t complaining, obviously. He puts a hand on the other’s back, and Genji leans into him and slides his own hand across his shoulders. 

They really need to talk, he thinks. 

“All good, sweetheart?” he says. 

“Yes,” Genji says. “Of course.” 

Of course, Jesse thinks. Like it’s fucking _easy_ , somehow. Like it’s natural. 

Genji is so, so different. 

It’s . . . amazing, honestly. 

Amazing, but real strange. 

“You’re perfect,” Jesse says, pushing Genji back down into the bed and leaning over him. Genji hums, cupping his face in his hands. Jesse nuzzles into them. “Don’t run off on me again, yeah? If you don’t wanna see me, just tell me. I ain’t gonna push you on it.” 

“I always want to see you,” Genji says. 

“Yeah,” Jesse says. “You’re my favorite thing to see.” 

Genji hums again, and his lights brighten a bit. He looks real pretty. 

Jesse knows his favorite color now. What a strange, precious little thing. He’d thought he’d maybe never learn anything new about Genji again, and now he’s got him right here in his hands, telling him all sorts of things he never would’ve said before. Not quite enough things, in some cases, but still so, so much more. 

Still ain’t explaining himself as much as he could be, really, but when Jesse’s more used to a Genji who wouldn’t even _talk_ some days . . . 

Yeah. It’s real different. 

“You’re so damn pretty,” Jesse says, smoothing a hand over the other’s chest and collarbone. 

“I will give Angela your compliments,” Genji says with obvious amusement, brushing a hand over his cheek. 

“My compliments are all for you, I assure you,” Jesse says. Genji laughs. 

“Charmer,” he says fondly—fucking _fondly_ , because Genji just says things that way now. That’s just a thing he does. 

Jesse ain’t getting over that anytime soon. 

“Do you two always talk like this?” Hanzo asks, sitting up with a grunt. Maybe he’s sore, Jesse thinks idly, glancing the other over. He’s got bite marks on his neck again. Which, well, that makes sense, on account of Jesse biting him. 

“Why, jealous?” he says. Hanzo glares at him. 

“I assure you, I am not,” he says, then gets off the bed and starts cleaning himself up. He really is a beautiful man, Jesse notes, and don’t hate him quite as much as usual for it. That’s probably the afterglow talking, though. 

He wonders, absently, if that bit about the jealousy was a lie. Though really, what would Hanzo actually be jealous of, anyway? 

“Jesse,” Genji says, and Jesse returns his attention to where it both belongs and wants to be—meaning, obviously, Genji. 

“Yeah?” he says. 

“I am so, so glad you are alright,” Genji says, tucking his hair back out of his face for him. Jesse’d thought they’d gotten past that part of the conversation, but apparently not. 

“Well, that’d be thanks to you, darlin’,” he says, then allows, “And Hanzo did alright, for his first mission and all.” 

“How generous of you to say,” Hanzo says dryly. 

“Did I not fuck you good enough, is that why you’re like this?” Jesse says. Hanzo’s face turns red, which is both real pretty and real funny. 

“Shut up,” he says. 

“No, really, I wanna know,” Jesse says. “ _Is_ there a fucking you good enough to make you not be a contrary bastard? Should I just not let you get off, ‘cause that seemed to work pretty well last time.” 

“That was miserable,” Hanzo says, his face still red. Jesse kind of wants to come on it, though he ain’t sure he could come again if his _life_ depended on it. 

“I dunno, I liked it well enough,” he says with a shrug. 

“I am glad the two of you can work together, at least,” Genji says, touching Jesse’s face again and again distracting him back to what actually matters. 

“Well, you could call it that,” Jesse says, kissing the other’s palm. Admittedly, if they _hadn’t_ been working together they’d probably both have been dead long before Genji showed up. “You do know he’s a bastard, though, right?” 

“ _You_ are a bastard,” Hanzo says irritably, pulling on his pants and retying his shirt properly. 

“Do tell,” Genji says as he looks back and forth between them, sounding amused. Jesse kisses the inside of his wrist, mostly ‘cause it’s there to be kissed. He should probably get dressed himself before the others actually do turn up, but he don’t really feel the need to rush it. He never feels much need to rush things around Genji, even when maybe he should. 

He kind of wishes he’d gotten to touch the other a bit more today. He ain’t really had much chance to. Maybe Genji’ll let him suck him off or something; that’d be nice. Let him do _something_ , at least. 

"Hey," he says, squeezing the other's wrists. "Can I touch you?" 

"You are touching me," Genji says, still sounding amused. 

"Not like I wanna be," Jesse says. 

"Maybe later," Genji says, which . . . okay, yeah, that's fine, but Jesse still feels like there's something off now. Something off with Genji, specifically. 

Ain't like Genji's never wanted not to be touched before, though. 

"Okay," Jesse says, letting go of him and leaning back. "That's fine." 

"Is it?" Hanzo says. 

"Don't need your opinion on this one, Shimada, thanks," Jesse says dubiously. 

"Something is bothering you," Hanzo says to Genji. "Is this because McCree and I fucked?" 

"No," Genji says. "I understand why you would." 

"Do you?" Jesse says, 'cause he ain't particularly clear on their reasons himself, if he's gonna be honest. They ain't great ones, he knows _that_ for sure. Spite and loathing ain't a good reason for much. 

. . . actually, come to think, he really _don't_ know Hanzo's reasons, do he. 

Huh. 

"Yes," Genji says, brushing his hair back off his face, and Jesse entirely forgets everything else he was thinking. Ain't important, compared to Genji. "I do." 

"Alright," Jesse says, 'cause he's never pushed Genji before and he ain't gonna start now. It just ain't a thing they do. "You good?" 

"Yes," Genji says. "I am. Are you?" 

"'Course I am," Jesse says, giving him a crooked grin. He don't wanna do anything but look at him, he thinks. He's just so fucking _good_. 

Really, if it came to it, Genji might just be the best thing that's ever happened to him. 

"Good," Genji says. 

"Not bad?" Jesse says, and can't help smiling at him. Genji laughs, then hums. He reaches over and touches his face again, and Jesse leans into it. Any time Genji wants to do that, he's gonna lean into it. 

"Not bad," Genji agrees. 

"Someone is coming," Hanzo says from the window, looking out into the street. "It looks like Ziegler and the others." 

"Whoops," Jesse says, and immediately goes for his pants. Genji laughs again and hands him his shirt, and Jesse takes it from him and pulls it on. Genji ruffles his hair into order for him and Jesse feels stupid and warm and _full_ and grins at him as he leans in to kiss his mask. It's been years since he was this close to Genji for this long, and God Almighty, does it feel good to be again. 

Better than ever before, even, which sure is saying something. 

"There you are," Genji says in satisfaction, and Jesse grins even wider at him, still feeling all full up with too many good things to name. 

"Here I am," he agrees, and can't imagine being nowhere else.


	6. Chapter 6

Hanzo slams Jesse to the floor, knocking all the breath out of him, and Jesse wraps his legs around him and flips them over, bracing his prosthetic against the other’s chest to hold him down. Hanzo bares his teeth at him and then hits him in the head and they go tumbling, both fighting for the advantage, the top, _something_. 

The timer beeps, and they freeze in position. Hanzo’s on top, weighing Jesse down, and has his prosthetic in an arm bar. Jesse was about half a second from doing something real inadvisable, probably. 

Hanzo lets go of his arm, and they separate. Jesse wipes blood off his mouth; Hanzo rubs it off his split knuckles. Jesse ain’t sparred with Hanzo too many times, but every time he has, they’ve both wound up bleeding. 

They set the timer ‘cause otherwise they don’t stop hitting each other. Winston’s rule, after their first spar went _real_ unpleasantly. 

They go to the opposite sides of the mat, and Jesse glances Hanzo over absently. He’s hard, which is easy to see in his workout clothes and also no surprise, really. It _is_ Hanzo. Jesse’s pretty sure Hanzo could get hard over rotten milk, how easy he is. Jesse can’t think of a single time he’s gotten his hands on him that the man _didn’t_ get hard. 

Easy, like he said. 

“Again?” Hanzo says, ignoring his cock to wipe at his bleeding knuckles with a towel. There’s health packs in the gym, of course, but he don’t move towards none of ‘em and neither does Jesse. In Jesse’s case, he don’t feel like he learned nothing if he heals up right after. In Hanzo’s case, who knows? 

“Got enough blood in my mouth for today, thank you kindly,” Jesse snorts, picking up his hat and dropping it back on his head. He wants a shower a lot more than he wants to punch Hanzo, no matter how much the bastard deserves it. If he punched Hanzo every time he deserved it, he’d never do nothing else with his life. 

“Hnn.” Hanzo drops the towel into his duffel bag, then bends down to pick up the bag. He is, as ever, a beautiful man, and his workout clothes don’t fit near as loose as his regular ones do. They don’t leave much to the imagination. 

Not that Jesse has to imagine, really. He can just remember. 

The gym’s empty, except for the two of them. They don’t usually spar when other people are around, on account of it tends to upset people a bit. They ain’t _nice_ about it, to put it mildly. Jesse’s lucky his shoulder’s still in the socket right now. 

They grab their bags and go to the locker room. Last time they were in the locker room alone Jesse’d sucked Hanzo off in the showers, but today he’s more occupied with getting the sweat off. They went longer than usual, for whatever reason, and he’s already sore and hurting from it. 

It’s been a couple weeks now since Hanzo got here. Jesse supposes things are settling. 

He still hates the bastard, but Genji don’t, so he works out his issues with Hanzo in other ways. Mostly violently and in the gym, but occasionally by shit like telling him what a fucking whore he is and fucking him blind. Hanzo ain’t picky, and neither is he. 

“McCree,” Hanzo says in that particular way that means he wants to get his rocks off but don’t wanna say so, the insatiable bastard. It’s been, what, two or three weeks of knowing the guy, and Jesse knows that tone backwards and forwards. 

“Ain’t interested, Shimada,” he says, ruffling his towel through his wet hair. “Go hit up somebody else.” 

“I do not recall asking for anything,” Hanzo says, and Jesse snorts, dragging the towel off his head to eye the other. Hanzo’s just standing there wet and naked and, yeah, still more than half hard. 

“That so?” Jesse says, giving the other’s dick a pointed look. Hanzo don’t even have the decency to look embarrassed about it. 

“That is so,” he says. Jesse kind of wants to stuff something in his mouth. The towel, his shirt, his cock; whatever. Just something to shut him up with. He gets that feeling a lot around Hanzo, though. 

“You hit up everybody this often, or am I special?” Jesse asks, genuinely curious. Hanzo _must_ be fucking other people, with a libido like that, though hell if he knows who. Hanzo glares at him. 

“You are not special,” he says. 

“Yeah?” Jesse says as he pulls on his clothes. “You got a lot of people lining up to call you a good whore, then?” 

“Shut up,” Hanzo says, his glare darkening. They never have a single conversation where Hanzo don’t say that at least once, but Jesse has yet to listen. He don’t know why the other bothers, frankly. 

“Naw,” he says, straightening out his shirt and then putting his hat back on. He wants a cigar, but he probably ain’t getting a cigar just yet. “Tell me.” 

Hanzo glares at him again. Jesse smirks back. If Hanzo wants something, well . . . 

“I need your cock,” Hanzo says tersely, his hands clenched in fists at his sides and his own cock not any softer. Jesse almost laughs at him, ‘cause nobody has _ever_ said that to somebody else so damn _spitefully_ , he thinks. 

“Do you now,” he says, cocking his head. 

“Yes,” Hanzo says. 

“Can’t say as I believe you,” Jesse lies. 

_“McCree,”_ Hanzo growls. Jesse raises his eyebrows at him. 

“Mm?” 

“I need it,” Hanzo says stiffly, raising his jaw. “I need it in me. I need to come on it.” 

“Now _that_ sounds a mite more convincing,” Jesse says with a lazy smirk, leaning in towards the other. Hanzo keeps glaring at him, but he don’t say nothing. Jesse throws his towel at him. “Get dressed. I know you love the idea of somebody walking in on you getting fucked but I want a mattress for once.” 

Hanzo glowers at him for a moment longer, then starts getting dressed. Jesse watches real attentively, mostly to be an asshole, and Hanzo turns away from him, probably also to be an asshole. Jesse slaps his ass because it’s right there, why _wouldn’t_ he, and Hanzo stiffens indignantly, jerking around to glare at him again. 

“What is _wrong_ with you?” he demands. 

“I mean, it’s _you_ ,” Jesse says with an easy shrug. “You strike me as the type to like a good spanking.” 

“I do not,” Hanzo says frostily. 

“Sure,” Jesse says, not particularly believing him. Hanzo glares at him a moment longer, then finishes getting dressed. Jesse thinks about groping him a bit, but Hanzo probably _would_ like that and he’d rather drag things out. 

Hanzo goes to tie his hair up again, and Jesse tugs the scarf out of his hands. 

“Naw,” he says. “Leave it loose.” 

Hanzo gives him an unreadable look, but don’t reach for his scarf. Jesse wraps it around his knuckles, rubbing a thumb across the fabric. It’s silkier than he woulda expected. Soft. 

Maybe he’ll tie Hanzo’s hands to the bed with it. 

They leave the locker room in silence; Jesse lets Hanzo lead the way. He don't really feel like bringing the other back to his space. Generally they just fuck wherever they are at the time, actually, so removing themselves to a more private location is actually something of a novelty. 

It also gives Jesse enough time to remember that fucking Hanzo ain't the _best_ idea he's ever had, which is probably why they don't usually do it. 

It's probably better than beating the shit out of him, though, so . . . yeah, whatever. 

Hanzo does look real good. Jesse can't say he gets off on it, exactly, but he gets off on _something_ about the man. 

Maybe just on being a dick to him, honestly. 

Hanzo stops, and opens a door. Jesse peers into the room, and ain't particularly surprised by what he finds. Hanzo’s bunk is mostly bare and kind of reminds Jesse of Genji’s. Or at least, Genji’s old bunk; who knows what his new one looks like. 

Not Jesse, unfortunately. 

"What've you got against interior decorating?" he asks, stepping in past him. 

"Nothing," Hanzo says. The door closes behind him, and Jesse backs him up against it. 

"Seems like something," he says casually, tugging at the other's belt. Hanzo frowns at him. 

"I own nothing like that," he says. 

"That's depressing," Jesse informs him as he unfastens his belt for him and lets it drop to the floor. Something else he could've tied Hanzo up with, come to think, though he actually ain't sure how the other'd feel about that. "Go buy a damn poster, Shimada." 

"Get on the bed," Hanzo says, shoving him towards it. Jesse laughs at him. 

"Eager," he says. 

"Slow," Hanzo says, which—fair, really. Jesse ain't here for the conversation. 

"If you say so," he says, and lets Hanzo push him down on the bed and kneel in front of him all neat and pretty. He smirks down at him as he unzips, and Hanzo eyes him dubiously in return. 

"I do," he says, tucking his damp hair back behind his ears and then pulling Jesse's cock out of his underwear, direct as ever. He ain't properly hard yet, just half-mast at best, but Hanzo knows how to get him that way real quick. 

One good thing the bastard can do, at least. Seems like fighting and fucking are about all Hanzo's good for. 

Hanzo takes his time, though, touching him carefully and clearly in no rush. Jesse's got nowhere to be, but it's still weird. Hanzo does that sometimes, though. 

"Who's being slow now?" he says, leaning back on his hands. Hanzo huffs, then produces a condom from somewhere and tears it open. " _There_ we go." 

"You should be more patient," Hanzo says. 

"Mmm, not likely." 

Hanzo gives him a _look_ , then rolls the condom on him and pushes his mouth down after it. Well, if he wants to take his time like _that_ , Jesse ain't gonna complain. He puts his hand in the other's hair, supporting his weight on his prosthetic, and tugs lightly. Hanzo takes it as an excuse to swallow him as far as he can. Hanzo can't deep-throat, least as far as Jesse knows, but he ain't gonna fuss about it. And his cock-sucking skills have definitely improved in the past week or two, so there's that. 

"There we go," Jesse sighs, as close to content as he can get around Hanzo, and Hanzo rolls his tongue up against his cock and bobs his head. "Yeah, that's good. So eager to get a cock in you, every damn time." 

Hanzo noises around him, maybe in acknowledgement or maybe in annoyance, and Jesse tightens his grip on the other's hair. Hanzo groans; Jesse yanks his hair. 

"Fucking noisy," he says. Not that it matters; whoever built the base definitely knew the importance of soundproofing between the bunks. It ain't perfect, but Hanzo'd have to get a lot noisier for anyone to hear them. "Was this all you wanted? Were you thinking about this in the gym?" 

Hanzo don't pull back to answer, which Jesse obviously appreciates, and he rewards the other with another yank to his hair, pushing his hips up into his mouth. Hanzo nearly chokes, but don't pull back over that either. 

"Yeah, bet you were," Jesse says, dragging his nails over Hanzo's scalp. "When _aren't_ you thinking about this, huh? Every time I see you you've got another excuse to get at my dick." 

Hanzo sucks harder, bobs his head faster, and Jesse just keeps thinking up dirty things to say, because if that's all he's gotta do to get his brain sucked out through his dick, well, obviously he's gonna do it. 

"I know, I know, you need it, don't you," he says breathlessly, dragging his nails again and then fisting his hand in Hanzo's hair. "What would you do without a nice fat cock to suck on, huh?" 

Hanzo pulls back, finally, his eyes heated and face flushed. Jesse twists his fingers in his hair, and he pants. He don't say anything, but he looks expectant. 

"What?" Jesse says. "Want me to come on your face? Want me to fuck your mouth? Want on my cock? Tell me." 

"Yes," Hanzo says. Jesse snorts. 

"Gonna have to pick one, Shimada," he says. Hanzo licks his lips, his eyes dropping briefly to Jesse's erection. He looks hungry, which is something Jesse'd like in another partner but in Hanzo is just . . . Hanzo, he guesses. 

"Fuck my mouth," Hanzo says. "Then let me on your cock." 

"Greedy," Jesse says, dragging the other's head back into his lap. Hanzo wraps his mouth around his dick again and Jesse immediately wraps a leg around the back of his shoulders and snaps his hips up. Hanzo _moans_. 

It's nice. 

"Real greedy," Jesse says, and then proceeds to fuck his mouth just like he'd asked. Hanzo keeps moaning, digging his fingers into his thighs and sucking roughly. Jesse kind of wants to choke him. 

Or definitely wants to choke him, maybe. 

For the moment, though, he just thrusts up into the other's mouth and holds his head down and listens to the noises it makes him make. They're pretty good noises. 

He wishes Genji were here. He's not sure why, aside from the fact that he usually wishes Genji were around. 

Hanzo chokes. Jesse lets up on him a bit, but not much. Hanzo don't seem to _want_ let up on, though, and tries to take him even deeper. Jesse . . . well, he ain't above giving a man what he wants, even if that's probably more than said man can handle. 

"I swear to God, you only get easier," he grunts under his breath. "You hard right now? I'm guessing yeah." 

Hanzo moans again, which Jesse decides means "yes". It's _Hanzo_ , after all. 

"'Course you are," he says, unwinding his leg from around the other and dragging him off him by his hair. "If you still wanna come on my cock, you better stop." 

"Nn," Hanzo says thinly, his eyes a little glazed for a moment. He shakes his head, gasping a little when Jesse don't let go of his hair. _"Ah."_

"Whore," Jesse says, almost automatic. 

"Ass," Hanzo says, then reaches under the bed and comes back with a bottle of lube. No posters or pictures or anything in here, but at least he's got the necessities, Jesse guesses. 

"You really need something in this place," he says, letting go of the other's hair and finally unwrapping his scarf from around his hand to abandon on the bed. He could still tie him up a bit, he thinks. 

"I really do not," Hanzo says, slipping out of his boots and pants. Jesse watches him undress idly, not really interested in the process, but . . .

"I hope you feel bad about how good you look," he says, grabbing the sleeve of the other's shirt to pull it down. Hanzo glares at him, for the thousandth time or so. "I hope you feel bad about a lot of things." 

"I do," Hanzo says shortly. 

"Good." 

Jesse leans back on his hands again and watches Hanzo slick up his fingers and reach down between his thighs. It still don't really do much for him, pretty a sight as it is, but his dick ain't any softer either, so he guesses it's doing _something_. 

Hanzo spreads his thighs and stretches himself, and Jesse keeps watching because he's right there to watch. Ain't like he's got anything better to do. 

"Taking your sweet time, ain't you," he says, just to be an ass about things. 

"Shut up," Hanzo says, then gets to his feet and shoves him down onto his back. Jesse lets him, in interest of getting him on his dick. Hanzo climbs on top of him and unbuttons his shirt just to get his hands inside it, apparently, then digs in his nails over his ribs. Jesse grips his ass and pulls him forward pointedly. Hanzo huffs at him, looking irritated. Presumably he is. 

"C'mon, Shimada, what're you waiting for?" Jesse coaxes, rubbing his cock against the other's ass. Hanzo grimaces for a moment, digging his nails in harder. Jesse'll probably have marks, but he can't say he cares. 

"You are so difficult," Hanzo says. 

"And you're so easy," Jesse counters. 

Hanzo . . . sighs, a bit, then wraps his fingers around Jesse's cock and guides it into himself. Jesse hisses lowly, gripping him tighter, and Hanzo starts to move. He's slow about it. Jesse finds it annoying, or at least as annoying as anybody can be while they're sitting on his cock. 

"Faster, fuck, _move_ ," he says. 

"I do not want to," Hanzo says, rolling his hips _torturously_ slowly, the bastard. Jesse growls up at him and snaps his own hips up. Hanzo grunts, but don't move no quicker. "Be _patient_.” 

"Ain't so much my thing," Jesse says, pulling him down tighter. Hanzo grunts again, bracing his hands on his stomach. Jesse snaps his hips up again. "C'mon, I know that greedy hole wants it." 

"I want it _slow_ ," Hanzo says. "You fucking idiot." 

"Tell me," Jesse says. He's getting a little too used to saying that, maybe, but Hanzo keeps answering, so . . . 

"I want it slow," Hanzo says again. "I want to fuck myself on your cock until I come." 

"I am much more partial to the last part of that statement than the first," Jesse says, and Hanzo curls his lip in disdain. Sort of makes Jesse want to smack him, just a bit. 

"You can deal with it," Hanzo says. He rolls his hips again, _way_ too damn slow, and Jesse groans in frustration, pushing up into him. He could probably roll them over and fuck Hanzo just as fast and hard as he liked, but he ain’t quite that frustrated yet. 

“Asshole,” he says feelingly, and gives the other’s ass a smack just on principle. Hanzo hisses, his spine stiffening at the impact, but he don’t change his pace none. 

“Vulgar,” Hanzo mutters irritably, and Jesse _laughs_. 

“You’re fucking kidding, right?” he says. Hanzo glowers down at him, then sits down hard and clutches up around him _tight_ , and Jesse forgets what they were talking about in favor of cursing a blue streak because God _damn_ , he thinks his legs just went numb for a second there. “Jesus!” 

“There,” Hanzo says breathlessly, sounding smug. Normally Jesse would be knocking that out of him right off, but _Christ_ , the bastard feels good around his dick. 

“Hell,” he says, gripping the other’s thighs, and Hanzo lifts his hips again, regrettably, and then less regrettably drops them. Jesse curses some more and digs his nails in, leaving thin red lines on Hanzo’s thighs. It’s fucking _good_ , because for some God-unknown reason the universe decided a bastard like Hanzo Shimada should be good at sex, but he still wants the man to hurry the hell up already. He don’t know what he’s fucking _dawdling_ for. 

“So impatient,” Hanzo says, rocking his hips just the barest bit faster, _fuck_ him. “I should tie you to the bed.” 

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing,” Jesse snarks, because no matter how good the sex is, he is always gonna find the room for that. Hanzo snorts, raking his hair back out of his face. Jesse wants to bite him. _Hard_. 

“You are lucky your dick can keep up with that mouth,” Hanzo says derisively. 

“That me who’s lucky, or you?” Jesse asks, making a point of snapping his hips up again. Hanzo _hisses_. “Yeah, that’s you. This dick keeps you nice and well-fucked, don’t it.” 

“I should have just fucked your mouth,” Hanzo says raggedly, rolling his hips a little harder, but still not hard enough. 

“Then you wouldn’t have gotten a cock in you, though, and I know how you hate _that_ ,” Jesse says, shifting to prop himself up on his elbows. Hanzo sneers down at him and shoves him back to the mattress, being Hanzo. Jesse thinks about rolling them over and fucking him ‘til he _cries_ , but is a little too distracted by watching him fuck himself. He’s too slow, yeah, but _shit_ , does he look good doing it. 

Ugh. 

Of course he does, the bastard. 

“Yeah, you’d have been real disappointed to miss out on that, be a real shame,” Jesse says. Hanzo bares his teeth at him. “I bet it aches when you’re empty, don’t it. I bet you can’t fucking _stand_ it.” 

“You repulse me,” Hanzo says flatly. 

“Somehow I ain’t getting that impression,” Jesse says, arching an eyebrow at him as he grips his ass again and pulls him down tighter into his lap. “But you know, maybe that’s just me.” 

Hanzo growls, but don’t say nothing back. He moves his hips faster, though, fucking _finally_ , and Jesse groans, tipping his head back against the bed as he moves up into them. Hanzo leans down over him, panting, and Jesse’s nice enough to feel him up a bit, smoothing his hands up over his thighs and stomach to cup his pecs. Hanzo snaps his teeth at him, so it probably feels good. He tweaks the other’s nipples and gets a growl for it, so yeah, it definitely feels good. 

Hanzo’s just so fucking _easy_. He’s thought it a thousand times and said it just as many, but Hanzo just keeps proving it over and over again. Jesse don’t know how the man makes it through the day, honestly. Can’t be happily, that’s for damn sure. 

He rolls his hips up harder and drags his nails down Hanzo’s sides and gets a real nice moan for it, and, better yet, Hanzo rolling his own hips down harder in turn. 

“Why do you do this?” Hanzo manages, shuddering and out of breath. Jesse is a little distracted, but more or less computes the question. 

“What, fuck you?” he says. “Why not?” 

“Because you are in love with my brother,” Hanzo says, and then Jesse ain’t so distracted anymore. 

_“What?!”_ he sputters, and Hanzo grinds down into him, panting again. 

“You are in love with my brother,” he repeats, voice hitching slightly as he fucks himself without so much as missing a beat. Jesse has missed _several_ fucking beats, and ain’t keeping up for shit no more. “Did you think it was not obvious?” 

“I am not _in love_ with _nobody_ ,” Jesse manages disbelievingly, and Hanzo gives him a real strange look. 

“I am not stupid,” he says, slowing his hips and clutching up around Jesse’s cock in a real distracting way that still ain’t distracting enough. “I see the way you look at him.” 

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?!” Jesse demands. He has never been in love in his damn _life_ , thank you very much, and would know damn well if he were with _Genji_ , of all people! It ain’t like he could miss something like that! 

“It means you are not subtle,” Hanzo says. “I was under the impression everyone knew.” 

“They do not, because I _am_ not,” Jesse says, and Hanzo gives him that strange look again. 

“Then kiss me,” he says, leaning down over him, his hair falling in his face. Jesse shoves him off, because _what the fuck_. He shoves a little too hard, maybe, because Hanzo falls off the bed and hits the floor on his ass with a curse. 

“I am not kissing _you_ for anything,” Jesse says. 

“So you do kiss other people,” Hanzo says neutrally, which is none of his _damn business_ , as a matter of fact. 

“Fuck you!” Jesse snaps, shoving himself upright to glare down at the other proper. 

“So you do _not_ kiss other people.” Hanzo cocks an eyebrow. He’s got those fucking cold eyes on, like he ain’t sitting there on the floor still hard and thoroughly fucked. Jesse wants to punch him, which ain’t an unusual thing to be feeling about Hanzo. “That does not strike you as a strange choice?” 

“It ain’t fair to be doing shit Genji can’t do,” Jesse says sharply. 

“You let me go down on you,” Hanzo says, his eyes flicking meaningfully to Jesse’s lap. “That is something Genji cannot do.” 

“Did I ask your _fucking opinion_?!” 

“No,” Hanzo says. “But yours seems to be woefully misinformed.” 

“Just ‘cause I don’t wanna do shit he wouldn’t like—” 

“Genji wants you to do those things,” Hanzo interrupts. “He specifically asked me to do them for you, in fact.” 

“That don’t mean he’s _okay_ with it!” Jesse fumes. 

“Oh?” Hanzo tilts his head. “Then what does it mean?” 

"I don't know!" Jesse says. "I don't _care_ , I ain't gonna do it to him!" 

"I see," Hanzo says, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. Jesse _hates_ him. Just . . . what a fucking bastard he is. "So when you let me go down on you . . . ?" 

"That ain't the same," Jesse says. 

"Why not?" 

"It's just fucking _sex_ , it don't matter!" Jesse says. 

"But kissing someone would not just be kissing them?" Hanzo says. 

"It's _different_ ," Jesse says tightly, glaring up at him. 

"Why?" Hanzo tilts his head. Jesse really, _really_ hates him. He's said that, right? That's come up? 

"It just is," he says. There's so many reasons it's different that he can't even _begin_ to explain them all. He don't know why Hanzo's trying to make it complicated. 

"It is not," Hanzo says. "Unless you love him." 

"I don't," Jesse says. 

"You do not act that way," Hanzo says. "You do not talk to him that way, either. You told him you would be whatever he wanted. You told him you needed nothing else. Were you lying?" 

"I don't lie," Jesse said. Not outside of missions, anyway, and especially not to _Genji_. 

"You also told him you would choose him over anyone else," Hanzo says. 

"Of course I would," Jesse says. He always would. 

"Then what do you call that, McCree?" Hanzo asks. "What do you think that is?" 

"He's my friend," Jesse says, glaring at him. He don't have to justify himself to _Hanzo_ of all people, dammit. 

"You have _had_ friends before, yes?" Hanzo says, looking dubious. 

"Don't be a fuck," Jesse snaps at him. He's had _friends_ , Jesus. Just—not friends like Genji. That's all. Besides, Genji don't need nobody sniffing 'round like that, he needs people who'll just be _decent_ to him and let him do what he needs to do. "And I ain't stupid enough to catch feelings like that, anyway. Genji'd never forgive my sorry ass." 

Hanzo just _stares_ at him. 

"You are . . . _so_ stupid," he says incredulously. "You are in love with him.” 

"No I ain't," Jesse says immediately. Hanzo just keeps staring at him. "Don't fucking look at me like that!" 

"You two are _appalling_ ," Hanzo says tightly. "Do you even talk? Ever? Have you ever _spoken_?" 

"Ain't your business how we fucking talk!" Jesse snaps defensively, bristling. And maybe they haven't much, still, but he don't care, alright? He'll wait as long as Genji needs him to, that ain't hard. He can do that fine. He waited in Blackwatch; he can wait now. 

"Unbelievable," Hanzo says. 

"Screw you!" Jesse hisses, getting to his feet to fix his clothes and throw out the condom. Hanzo is a goddamn _bastard_ , and he don't care what the asshole has to say. It's not Hanzo's fucking place to judge what their relationship's like or how much they talk or fucking _any_ of it. Hanzo's lucky he ain't dead in a shallow grave somewhere, courtesy of whoever the hell felt like it. 

"You are an idiot," Hanzo says. 

"And you're a monster!" Jesse snaps, getting in his space to glare at him. Hanzo don't look even slightly cowed, the bastard. "You ain't even _sorry_ for what you did, and you're judging the way we fucking _talk_?! Are you fucking _serious_?!" 

"You have no idea how I feel," Hanzo says. "You have no idea how _you_ feel, apparently." 

"I know how I damn well _feel_ , Shimada, and it ain't kindly towards you!" Jesse snarls, shoving him. Hanzo bristles and shoves him back, _hard_. The back of Jesse's legs hit the bed and he falls back onto it, and Hanzo shoves in close and fills up his personal space, practically in his lap again. 

"If you want to hit me, hit me," he says. "That will not change how foolish you've been." 

"Look who's goddamn talking," Jesse hisses spitefully. Hanzo stares at him for a long moment, then leans back and straightens up again. 

"Tell me you've never thought about pretending I was him," he says. "Tell me you have not thought about him at all while we were fucking." 

"So what if I have?" Jesse says tersely, pushing back to his feet. Who wouldn't? It's goddamn _Hanzo_. 

"I do not think about other people when I fuck you," Hanzo says. 

"That don't make you a better person than me," Jesse says. 

"It does not," Hanzo agrees. "But at least I know what I want." 

"You want to get _laid_ , big fucking deal," Jesse says. 

"That is not what I want," Hanzo says sharply, and Jesse . . . pauses. 

Something about the way Hanzo said that was . . . off, somehow. 

"The hell else would you want?" he asks with a frown. Hanzo glowers at him. 

"You are a fool," he says icily. "And if you really feel nothing for Genji, then you should not treat him the way you do." 

"I can be fucking _nice_ ," Jesse says. 

"You are not nice," Hanzo says. "You are good and loyal and a _fucking idiot_." 

"Hey!" Jesse says angrily. 

"Get out of my room, McCree," Hanzo says, looking . . . tired, suddenly, and pushing a hand through his hair. "Just go. And maybe fucking _think_ , for once." 

"Don't have to tell me twice," Jesse says sourly, grabbing his bag off the floor. He ain't interested in no more of Hanzo's bullshit. Bastard don't even know what he's talking about. 

He ain't in love with Genji. He wouldn't do that. 

"You should not treat him that way," Hanzo says again, folding his arms. 

"I treat him better than _you_ do," Jesse spits, stalking towards the door. 

Last person who was supposed to have loved Genji was _Hanzo_ , after all, and Jesse'd never do that to him.


	7. Chapter 7

Genji is murdering alien terrorists and it is fucking adorable. Jesse’s never seen him play a video game before and it is an _experience_ , he will definitely say that. 

“Hana put you up to this?” he asks from behind the common room couch, sipping his coffee as he watches Genji blow up a tank. It’s been a couple days since his fight/worst sex ever with Hanzo, and he _almost_ feels capable of being normal around Genji again. Mostly. 

“Not specifically,” Genji says, not looking away from the screen, or at least not turning his head away from it. “She said I could borrow it.” 

“I didn’t know you liked video games,” Jesse says. 

“I used to be very good at them,” Genji says, which is definitely something Jesse didn’t know. “And they are useful.” 

“Useful?” Jesse squints at him. Genji hits pause, then holds up his right hand and makes a show of wiggling its fingers. 

“Angela recalibrated my hand,” he says. “Video games help with fine motor control.” 

“Oh,” Jesse says. “Huh.” 

“Useful, as I said,” Genji says, restarting the game. Jesse just sort of . . . stands there, mostly, watching the other play. He’s still pretty good at it, from the look of things. At least, he ain’t dead and the aliens mostly are. 

Jesse drinks his coffee, feeling kind of awkward, and Genji keeps playing through to the end of the level, then looks back over his shoulder at him. 

“Do you want to play?” he asks, shifting over to make room for him on the couch, like there ain’t plenty of it already. 

“Not even slightly,” Jesse says, but he takes the offered seat because he ain’t the ungrateful sort. “This really that helpful?” 

“Yes,” Genji says. “Some games are better than others, obviously.” 

“Makes sense.” Jesse takes another sip of coffee, then sets the cup aside on the coffee table. Genji offers him the controller, and because the other’s offering, he takes it. He does _not_ do well, unsurprisingly. His hobbies growing up mostly involved larceny, shooting, and not getting shot himself. Genji chuckles when he dies, which is fair ‘cause he dies in a _real_ stupid way. “Dammit.” 

“Sorry,” Genji says. “Would you like some tips?” 

“Sure,” Jesse says, mostly ‘cause of the novelty of the idea. Genji’s never given him tips on _anything_ , and definitely not anything he actually _liked_. And besides, he likes listening to him talk. He didn’t used to do that so much. 

“For starters, you’re holding the controller wrong,” Genji says in amusement. 

“. . . I knew that.” 

It takes a bit, but Genji gets him in respectable enough condition that he clears the level, which ain’t how Jesse was intending to spend his morning but is still kinda nice. They’d never really hung out as much as he’d wanted to back in Blackwatch, and this might be the first time they’ve been alone together since Recall happened. Definitely more alone than ignoring Hanzo three feet away, that’s for sure. But right now Hanzo ain’t even in the base, and neither are a whole lot of other people, because missions and meetings and whatever else, so it’s mostly just them here. 

Jesse could get used to that, honestly. 

“Thanks,” he says, handing the controller back. “I think you’re still a mite better’n me, though.” 

“I believe I may have had more practice,” Genji says with another chuckle, starting the next level. 

“That sounds about right, yeah,” Jesse says. He thinks about putting an arm around Genji but ain’t sure if that’d get in his way, which he obviously don’t wanna do. 

He thinks about how fucking _stupid_ Hanzo is. Genji’s his friend. Of course he fucking _cares_ about him. 

“You’re real good at that,” he says, reclaiming his lukewarm coffee and watching Genji very violently murder another alien. 

“Thank you,” Genji says, then tucks his feet up on the couch and leans into him. Jesse about drops his coffee. Genji hums. 

Alright, then. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, like an entirely normal person who is entirely used to casual affection, and Genji hums again and murders a few more aliens. Jesse drinks his coffee, because again, he is an entirely normal person who is entirely used to casual affection. 

Never mind how it’s been a while since he got _any_ affection, and definitely never mind Genji being _Genji_. 

So yeah, he drinks his coffee. 

Eventually he runs out of coffee, though, and Genji’s still all tucked in against his side comfortably like it ain’t nothing special, like it’s something he’s done a thousand times, and Jesse feels a bit overwhelmed, honestly. He’s saved Genji’s life before and felt less trusted than he does right now. 

“Did you train yet today?” Genji asks, tilting his head to look up at him. Jesse looks back at him, still feeling that little bit overwhelmed. 

“This morning, yeah,” he says. “Why?” 

“No reason,” Genji says. “I was just wondering if you were going to have to leave soon.” 

“No,” Jesse says, something real weird seizing up in his chest. “I don’t gotta leave anytime soon.” 

“Good,” Genji says. He pauses the game again and sets the controller aside, and Jesse ain’t sure what to say. 

“Take it you don’t have to go nowhere either?” he finally comes up with. Genji hums quietly, resting his head on his shoulder and setting a hand on his knee. 

“No,” he says. “I do not.” 

“Well alright then,” Jesse says, and then they just . . . sit like that for a while. Jesse don’t even wanna move to put his coffee cup down, so he don’t. Genji’s body ain’t soft or warm, but it feels real nice against his all the same. He wants to touch him, but he don’t wanna disturb . . . whatever this is, exactly. 

About the nicest thing that’s happened to him since Overwatch blew up, he thinks. 

Eventually, Genji lifts his head again. Jesse ain’t sure what changed, but when Genji turns his face towards him he really don’t care. Genji could do just about anything he liked right now, Jesse thinks, and he’d be fine with it. 

“Jesse,” Genji says, squeezing his knee. 

“I really like how you say that,” Jesse says, wanting to turn into him _real_ bad but still not wanting to risk disturbing the quiet stillness of the moment. 

“Your name?” Genji sounds amused. 

“Yeah.” Jesse exhales. “You never used to call me that, no matter how many times I said you could.” 

“I suppose I did not,” Genji murmurs. “It felt . . . too intimate, then.” 

“You can be as intimate with me as you please,” Jesse says, and Genji laughs softly, lifting a hand to cup his face. 

“Oh, can I?” he says teasingly, because Genji fucking _teases_ now, and Jesse’s heart about does a backflip in his chest. 

“Any time,” he says. Genji hums, stroking his cheek. 

“You are so good to me,” he says. 

“Every time you say that just makes me wanna be better,” Jesse says, and turns into him after all, putting a hand on his hip. Anytime Genji even _implies_ that makes him wanna be better, in fact. 

“Oh?” Genji says slyly. “Perhaps I will keep saying it, then, and see what I can get.” 

“I’d be okay with that,” Jesse says, leaning in to press their foreheads together. Genji makes a soft, pleased sound. 

“Jesse,” he murmurs, low and lovely. Jesse will never get sick of hearing him say his name. 

“Genji,” he says back, just in case hearing it feels anything like that for Genji, and Genji hums at him and pushes in closer. 

“Jesse,” he says again, an obvious laugh barely-restrained in his voice. Jesse wants to put his hands all over him. 

Nothing’s stopping him from doing that, so . . . 

“Genji,” he says, sliding his hands up the other’s sides. Genji noises contentedly, pressing into the contact. “You’re the prettiest thing I ever seen, I told you that lately?” 

“Mmm, perhaps you could say it once more,” Genji teases lightly, and Jesse’s heart about fucking _leaps_. 

“You’re the prettiest thing I ever seen,” he says, then kisses his visor and then his mask and his throat and, between kisses—“Prettier’n anything. Best I’ve ever had. Goddamned _perfect_.” 

“Liar,” Genji says, that barely-restrained laughter still in his voice as he squirms under Jesse’s mouth, and Jesse keeps putting his hands on him and keeps dropping kisses all over his face and neck. 

“Never,” he swears. “Not a single damn lie.” 

Genji hums, and Jesse kisses his mask again. He don’t know if Genji’s felt even one kiss or caress with the armor in the way, but he ain’t worried about that. If Genji wants to take the armor off, then he’ll take the armor off. Otherwise, he’ll just do what he can. 

Jesse kisses down his throat and Genji laughs, leaning into him. It feels nice, like everything Genji does. 

“Too good to me,” Genji says again, gently pushing at his shoulders. Jesse goes loose and lets him push him back until he’s leaning him back against the arm of the couch and climbing on top of him. 

Jesse ain’t complaining, for obvious reasons. 

“Ain’t possible. Couldn’t be too good to you if I tried,” he says, spreading his thighs to let the other in closer. Genji hums, skimming a hand up one and settling in against him. 

“Mm, no?” he says in amusement, then takes his hat off for him and sets it on the table. 

“No,” Jesse says, tilting his head as Genji puts a hand on his cheek. “No damn way.” 

“I suppose I will have to find some way to pay you back for that,” Genji says musingly. 

“You don’t gotta,” Jesse says. Genji hums. 

“Maybe I want to,” he says, smoothing a hand over his chest and then moving to unbutton his shirt. “Is that alright, Jesse? If I want to?” 

“I mean, if you insist,” Jesse says as he covers the back of Genji’s hands with his own, because again, he ain’t the ungrateful sort. Genji laughs softly and tilts his head. 

“Oh, I insist,” he says warmly. Fucking _warmly_. Jesse could lose his damn mind over that. 

“Alright, then,” he says, and Genji pushes his shirt open and slides his hands over his chest, shifting backwards to lay on top of him. Jesse’s mouth goes a bit dry, and he pushes his hands up the other’s forearms. “Goddamn, darlin’.” 

“I like it when you call me that,” Genji says in that same warm tone, slipping his hands down over his ribs. Jesse feels fucking _spun_. 

“I’ll call you that any time you want,” he says. 

“Now,” Genji says. 

“Darlin’,” Jesse says immediately, and Genji hums and slides his hands back up his chest. Jesse wants to pin him to the couch and fucking _adore_ him; make him feel the best that he can possibly feel. 

“Just like that,” Genji sighs. He rubs the pad of his thumb across one of Jesse’s nipples, soft and languid, and Jesse inhales, warmth settling low in his gut. “Say something nice to me, Jesse. Something you really mean.” 

“I mean every nice thing I say to you,” Jesse says, and Genji makes a soft noise and reaches down between them to cup his cock. Jesse groans, tipping his head back against the arm of the couch. Genji makes a breathy sound, barely discernible. 

“You look so good when I touch you,” he says. “I like it so much.” 

“I like it when you touch me,” Jesse says. 

“You are good to touch,” Genji purrs, rubbing the heel of his hand against his cock. Jesse’s never heard him sound like that before, but he could definitely get used to it. “How much _can_ I touch you, Jesse?” 

“Much as you want, darlin’,” Jesse says, lifting a hand to the back of the other’s head. His scarf, some part of him notes distantly, is silkier than he would’ve expected. Soft. 

That reminds him of something, a bit. 

“I want a lot,” Genji says, and Jesse forgets what he was thinking. 

“I just want you,” he says. Genji stills for a moment, then sort of . . . shivers, just a bit. His lights flicker, then glow brighter. 

“Say something nice to me,” he breathes. 

“Can’t say anything as nice as you,” Jesse says. “You’re the best damn thing about this place.” 

“Mm,” Genji says, squeezing Jesse’s cock through his pants and digging his fingers into his ribs. Jesse lets out a breathless grunt, stroking one hand down the back of the other’s neck and putting the other on his side. Genji arches into the contact, looking pretty as anything, and Jesse leans in to kiss the corner of his mask. 

“So pretty,” he says, because if Genji can hear things like that, he ain’t gonna hold them back. “You look so good, darlin’.” 

“The upgrades have been an improvement, yes,” Genji says, sounding amused. 

“You always looked good,” Jesse says, shaking his head. “Only thing I don’t like is I can’t see your pretty eyes no more.” 

“Mmm,” Genji says again, then leans back a bit and unzips him. Jesse don’t push it, obviously. 

“You’re beautiful. I wanna touch you everywhere you’ll let me,” he says, and Genji looks down at him and wraps his fingers around his cock to stroke. 

“Dibs,” he says lightly. Jesse’d be disappointed, ‘cause Genji hasn’t really let him touch him too much since they got here, but that’d mean being disappointed that Genji’s touching _him_ and he can’t really do that. 

“Whatever you want, darlin’,” he says, stroking the back of the other’s neck again. He wonders where all those loose tubes and wires went; how many of them are still under Genji’s armor. 

“I want to touch you,” Genji says. 

“Please do,” Jesse says. 

Genji hums, pushing his thumb up over the head of Jesse’s cock, and Jesse lifts his hips just a bit, just enough to press into his palm. Genji strokes him, and he pushes his head back into the arm of the couch again, biting his lip. 

“Do you have anything?” Genji asks. 

“When don’t I?” Jesse says, cracking a wry grin at him and digging into his pocket for the little packet of lube in it. There’s a couple condoms, too, but he don’t need those with Genji unless they’re just avoiding making a mess. Which, admittedly, they should maybe do on account of this being the common room and all. 

Well, they can always clean up later if they gotta. There's a blanket on the couch, it'll be fine. 

“Always so prepared,” Genji says with a low laugh, taking the lube from him. 

“You know it,” Jesse says, grin widening. He don’t know what Genji’s got in mind, but he’s already all for it, whatever it might be. It’s _Genji_. 

"I do," Genji says, taking off his boots and then tugging his pants down. Jesse wiggles his hips a bit to make it easier for him.

"Gonna fuck me?" he asks with another grin. "I'd like that. Your cock's always so good, darlin'." 

"It is . . . a cock, at least," Genji says wryly. 

"It's good," Jesse says firmly. "Pretty as anything and always up for it when I want it. Fits me just right, too." 

"You are too good to me," Genji says with a fond sigh, shaking his head. "I do not know how to be so good to you." 

"You been _laughing_ ," Jesse says a bit more feelingly than he means to, but oh well. He wants Genji to believe him. That's all that matters. "I don't need nothing else." 

"You bring it out of me, I suppose," Genji says, slicking up his fingers. Jesse bites his lip at the sight and spreads his thighs. 

"Happy to do it," he says. "Especially if I'm getting dicked down for it." 

Genji laughs, and it's _so_ sweet. Jesse grins wider. 

"I could listen to that all day," he says, maybe a little dreamy. He really could, though. 

"Flatterer," Genji says, shifting forward. He puts the pad of a finger against Jesse's hole, rubbing lightly, and Jesse pushes into the contact with a little sigh. 

"I mean it," he says. "You're gonna fuck me, right? Promise I'll be nice and tight for you." 

"You are always nice for me," Genji says, gently working a finger into him. 

"I like your fingers," Jesse says, tipping his head back with a sigh. "You're so damn good with them, for starters. Any time you wanna touch me is good by me." 

"Any time?" Genji says. 

"Yes," Jesse says. "You can keep fucking me all day, far as I'm concerned." 

"Maybe I will," Genji says. 

"Sounds promising," Jesse says with a lazy grin. He'd be more than happy to spend a day doing nothing but riding Genji's dick. Sounds like a good time to him. 

"Happy to provide," Genji says as he crooks his finger inside him just fucking right, then works in another. Jesse _sighs_.

"Just like that, yeah, I love it when you do that," he says coaxingly, pushing his hips up. "Can't wait to get that cock in me, feels so good every time, you know _just_ how to use it."

"The benefits of a misspent youth," Genji says in amusement as he carefully scissors his fingers. 

"Mmm, I think you spent it just perfectly, myself," Jesse says. 

"What, by being a slut?" Genji asks with a laugh. 

"Sweetest slut I know," Jesse says admiringly, cupping the other's face in his hands and leaning up to press their foreheads together again. "You treat me so good, darlin', I love it. Be a slut all over me." 

"I am willing," Genji says, sounding a little breathless. 

"The best," Jesse praises, peppering little kisses across his mask. "C'mon, c'mon, get me ready and get inside me. Let me feel you." 

"You can feel me now, yes?" Genji says. He works in another finger and Jesse groans quietly at the almost-burn of the stretch. 

"Not enough," he says. "Never enough. Wanna feel every damn inch you _got_." 

Genji crooks his fingers again, and Jesse _shudders_. He really is too good at this. Jesse wasn't kidding, he'd be more than happy to do this all day. 

"I want it to be enough," Genji says, rocking his fingers. 

“You are, you are, you always are,” Jesse promises, cupping the other’s face and pressing their foreheads together again. “Oh, sweetheart, you make me feel so good. Hurry up and fuck me right.” 

“I will,” Genji says, leaning into him. “I am so happy you let me touch you like this. I love the way you take me.” 

“Happy to oblige,” Jesse says, kissing his visor and feeling way, way too much at Genji saying he’s _happy_. That’s almost too much to fucking _hold_. “In me. C’mon.” 

“Gladly,” Genji says, reclaiming his fingers to slick up his cock. He don’t look at it as he does, which ain’t a surprise. Jesse wishes that were easier for him; that it were a thing he could do. He don’t care if Genji never looks at himself again, but . . . 

“Oh,” he sighs as Genji guides his cock against and into him, pressing their foreheads together again. Genji pushes in, feeling just right, and Jesse groans. “Yeah, c’mon, just like that. You’re so _good_.” 

“Jesse,” Genji murmurs, rolling his hips in the most _perfect_ way. Jesse hooks his hands together behind his neck and squeezes his knees in against his sides, keeping him close. He don’t want Genji going nowhere. He don’t want neither of them anywhere except together. 

“You’re so good,” he says again, shuddering; feeling weak and warm all over. Genji moves just right inside him, keeping that feeling going and making it more and more intense. Jesse could about fall off the couch, honestly. 

“Are you talking to me or my cock?” Genji asks with a quiet laugh. 

“Both of you,” Jesse says firmly, tightening his grip on him. “Your cock feels fucking perfect and you’re _better_ than perfect. Sweet as hell and twice the trouble. And you keep _laughing_.” 

“It is only laughing,” Genji says. 

“It’s the best thing I ever heard,” Jesse says. He kisses his visor again, then down the side of his mask. “Every time you let me hear it I feel like I could fucking kill someone for you.” 

“You _have_ killed people for me,” Genji says wryly. He puts a hand over the back of Jesse’s prosthetic. Jesse presses his mouth against the corner of his mask. 

“And I’d do it again, a thousand times,” he says. “As many times as I gotta.” 

“Would you?” Genji says. 

“Every time,” Jesse says. “You’re so smart and strong, and you’re _funny_ , and you told me your favorite color and things you did when you were a kid and you tell me when shit feels _good_ , now, and I can hardly stand it. I’d do a lot worse than kill somebody, if it came to it.” 

“I should not find that sweet,” Genji says musingly. 

“ _You’re_ sweet,” Jesse says. Genji laughs, and Jesse’s heart clenches in his chest. 

“Liar,” Genji says, _fondly_ , then rocks his hips in just right, just fucking _perfectly_ , and Jesse groans and grips him tighter. Genji braces a hand against the armrest and fucks him in long, slow thrusts, so clearly taking his time, and Jesse could about go crazy for it. 

“Would I lie to you?” he manages to pant out, hooking a leg across Genji’s back as he moves up into him. “ _Fuck_ , that’s good.” 

“I know you would not,” Genji says, and Jesse—well, that just sounds like an excuse to start talking, to him. 

“You’re so pretty,” he says. “So pretty and so fucking _brave_ , all the shit you do. I can’t fucking _stand_ it, when you tell me things I wanna goddamn _die_. Drives me wild, hearing you like that. I wanna know everything you’ve got to say.” 

“Really?” Genji says. 

“Absolutely,” Jesse says fervently. “Every single damn thing you’ve ever fucking _thought_.” 

“That . . . would be a lot of things,” Genji says with another quiet laugh. 

“I got time,” Jesse swears. “I got time for anything, if it’s you.” 

“Jesse,” Genji murmurs, and fucks him harder. Jesse curses, knocking his head back and pushing up into his thrusts. It feels so fucking _good_. Everything Genji does feels good, but especially this. He could come his brains out just like this and never want a damn other thing. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he says, clutching at him. “Oh, you’re so good, sweetheart, darlin’, you fill me up just right, you make me feel _perfect_ , I wanna get fucked by you ‘til I fucking _die_ , do you like it, is it good for you too?” 

“So good,” Genji says softly. “You always make me feel good, Jesse.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jesse says, nodding urgently, moving up into him. “That’s all I want, I want you to feel good, feel like you fucking _deserve_.” 

“Mmm,” Genji says, burying his face in his neck and fucking into him faster, fingers digging into the couch. Jesse adjusts the angle of his hips to let him in a bit deeper, and they both curse hoarsely. 

“You deserve so much,” Jesse says, because he couldn’t shut up if somebody fucking _paid_ him, and Genji pushes a hand up his side and over his ribs and fucks him to a just-right rhythm that has him shaking. “Everything you went through, everything you are, you’re so fucking _strong_ , darlin’, I’m so damn proud of you.” 

“Jesse,” Genji rasps against his shoulder, and Jesse clings to him tight as he can, moves up into him, keeps talking. 

“ _So_ damn proud, I want everyone to know how good you are, how fucking _wonderful_ ,” he says, half-clawing at Genji’s back and practically rambling. “Can’t believe you let me _near_ you, you’re so damn good.” 

“I want you near me all the time,” Genji says, softly, and Jesse fucking _thrills_ with it. 

“That’s where I wanna be,” he says. 

“Jesse,” Genji says again, ducking his head as his respirator kicks into overdrive and the rhythm of his hips turns erratic. “Jesse, Jesse, _Jesse_ —” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m right here,” Jesse says, pressing a kiss into his neck. “You gonna come? C’mon, c’mon, inside me. Just like I like.” 

_“Ngh,”_ Genji chokes. His elbows lock, and his hips jerk. Jesse makes a point of clutching up around him, and Genji gives this stifled little cry and _shakes_. 

“Yeah, there you are,” Jesse breathes, stroking a hand back over the other’s head. Genji shudders one last time, the tension going out of his shoulders as he slumps into him. Jesse barely resists the urge to squirm, but he’s a grown-ass man, he can be patient. “So good, every time.” 

“Jesse,” Genji murmurs, then wraps his hand around his cock and strokes. Jesse moves into it with a low groan. Yeah, he can be patient. Genji never makes him wait too long anyway. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, and Genji keeps stroking and stroking, twisting his wrist, pushing his thumb across the head of his cock, treating him right, and _fuck_ — 

It’s really, really good. Everything Genji does is good, and Jesse loves it all. He absolutely, completely, unequivocally loves it, and he wants nothing else even _half_ this bad. Genji is perfect, even when he won’t take his armor off, even when he don’t wanna say things, even when he _can’t_ say things. Jesse don’t need anything else, don’t need nothing he don’t have. This is already more than he ever expected out of him, honestly, already so fucking _precious_ —he couldn’t even _want_ more than this. 

Why would he? 

He comes, panting and cursing and shaken, and Genji works him through it, draws it out ‘til he’s oversensitive and _aching_ , and stops at the exact moment before it’d be too much. Of course he does. It’s _Genji_. Even if he weren’t perfect, he’d be perfect. 

“Jesus,” Jesse says, still shuddering through the last of his aftershocks, and Genji hums. His fingers are wet and sticky and Jesse, out of habit, catches him by the wrist and tugs them to his mouth to lick clean. Genji watches, or at least his head’s turned like he’s watching. Jesse’s just assuming, admittedly. 

“You have such a lovely mouth,” Genji says. 

“Usually I just hear I should shut it,” Jesse says, licking his lips. Genji laughs, and Jesse _loves_ him. 

. . . wait. 

“I love to hear you talk,” Genji says while Jesse’s busy trying to figure out if he really just thought that and also blaming fucking _Hanzo_ , the bastard, and then Jesse feels it again, sharp and quick and straight to the core of him, leaving him fucking _struck_. Like something easy, or at least something simple. Like something he’s felt a thousand times before, but never quite had a name for. 

He didn’t—he ain’t—

He didn’t, right? He ain’t that stupid? 

“Say something nice to me,” Genji says, brushing a hand across his cheek, and Jesse don’t know what to say at all. He hesitates for the first time, but Genji waits, pretty and patient as you please. 

“You’re something nice,” Jesse says finally, because anything else that might come out of his mouth right now can’t be trusted. Genji hums, pushing his thumb across his cheekbone. 

“Am I?” he murmurs. 

“Always,” Jesse says, because he still don’t trust his damn mouth with anything more complicated than that. 

“You too,” Genji says. “You are something very nice indeed.” 

Jesse just . . . _looks_ at him, a bit. He looks so different from their Blackwatch days, and sounds so different, and _is_ so different, and it don’t matter a damn thing. Jesse still feels exactly the same damn way. 

He feels like he’s always felt this way. 

And that, he thinks, is fucking _terrifying_. 

“I just thought you should know that,” Genji says, laying down on top of him. He’s light as anything, but Jesse instantly feels pinned. It ain’t that he wants to get away, but . . . 

“Thank you kindly,” he says, placing a careful hand on the other’s back. He’s never gonna trust his mouth around Genji again, he thinks. He can’t even trust his own _mind_ around Genji, apparently. 

This is Hanzo’s fault, he thinks, but it don’t actually feel like it’s Hanzo’s fault. 

He’s sure as shit still gonna blame him for it, though. 

Genji hums, settling in comfortably, and Jesse feels . . . _entirely_ overwhelmed, and several other things besides. A bit like he should get dressed and run for it, and a bit like he should never move again, and a bit like he’s just made a real, real bad mistake, ‘cause Genji don’t need this shit right now. Or ever. Genji’s got Hanzo to deal with and Overwatch is still just barely pulling it together and he ain’t so much as _implied_ he’d want this kinda attention from anyone, much less Jesse specifically, and . . . and . . . 

“You still do not have to leave yet, do you?” Genji murmurs, and Jesse knows he ain’t gonna move for a long, long time.


	8. Chapter 8

Jesse was not prepared for this, and by “this”, he definitely means just _everything_ about the Shimada brothers. 

“Anybody ever tell you two that you ain’t subtle men?” he says, just _looking_ at the pair of them: Genji in all his armor and Hanzo in his soft and easy usual clothes and both of them, again, sitting on opposite ends of his bed. Like love and hate, balanced very literally on either side of him. 

Very, very literally. 

“Oh, once or twice,” Genji says, and Jesse loves him. 

“Never,” Hanzo says, and Jesse hates him. 

“What’s this about, then?” he says, and don’t know what either of them thinks of him at all. 

“Mmm, two guesses, and the first one does not count,” Genji says mildly, leaning forward in his seat. Hanzo sits still and stiff-backed in his own. Jesse wonders if this was Genji’s idea again. It would’ve been, right? Considering if it weren’t Genji’s idea it would’ve been _Hanzo’s_ . . . 

Yeah, so it was Genji’s. 

Jesse really don’t know what to think about that, is the thing. 

“Guess I could make some assumptions,” he says, pulling the chair out from his much-neglected desk and sitting down in it. Genji hums, tilting his head. Hanzo watches him with those cold-burning eyes of his. Jesse . . . ain’t sure where to start, he supposes. 

Ain’t even sure he wants to do this again, in all honesty. 

“You look handsome today,” Genji says, simple and easy, and yeah, okay; Jesse’ll do anything he wants. He don’t know why what he wants involves _Hanzo_ , but since it does . . . 

“And you’re as pretty as ever,” he says. Genji laughs, his lights brightening. Jesse wants to kiss them. He wants to kiss most of Genji, really. In fact, the only places he _don’t_ want to kiss him are the ones Genji don’t want to show him. 

“Flatterer,” Genji says fondly, then gets up and comes over to him and cups his face in his hands, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Jesse cranes his neck to make it work easier and Genji hums again. His lights pulse. Jesse puts his hands around his wrists, rubbing his thumbs along the insides. It feels real nice being this close to him, but part of him feels a little guilty, for the first time. Genji don’t know how he . . . Genji don’t know what he’s feeling. He can’t say the other’d let him in this close if he did. 

Jesse don’t wanna tell him, though, for obvious reasons, so his options are limited here. He don’t want Genji to think he’s mad at him or nothing like that. He definitely don’t want him to think he did nothing wrong. 

He can control his own stupid heart and be _normal_ , he tells himself. 

“Ain’t flattery if it’s true,” he says. Genji laughs again, the best sound in the world. 

“Oh?” he says as he straightens up again. His hands linger on Jesse’s face. Jesse really, really don’t mind. “Well, in that case.” 

He brushes his thumbs behind Jesse’s ears, then trails his fingers down his neck before letting his hands fall away. Jesse barely keeps himself from leaning after them. He feels stupid and _obvious_ and like he’s making a mistake, but . . . 

But, he guesses. 

“Glad you see my point of view,” Jesse says, trying not to look stupid and obvious but very, very aware of Hanzo sitting right there and probably reading him like a book. They don’t even know each other that well, but apparently he’s just _that_ fucking blatant about this. 

“You do not mind us dropping in, do you?” Genji says like they didn’t _break_ in, taking Jesse’s hat off and setting it on his desk. Hanzo pushes himself up and comes over. Jesse is suddenly regretting sitting down, because now they’re both practically on top of him at once and that is . . . a lot of competing emotions. And hormones. Just—a lot. 

“He might mind me,” Hanzo says as Genji reaches out and unbuttons the collar of his shirt. Jesse’s wishing he’d worn layers today. Or that he weren’t such a fucking idiot, maybe. 

“I don’t mind,” he lies as Genji tugs his collar open. 

“Good,” Genji says with a contented hum. “I would hate to bother you, after all.” 

“You never bother me,” Jesse says, catching his hand and giving it a quick squeeze. Genji hums again and squeezes back, soft and pleased. Hanzo’s looking at them, which makes Jesse feel both self-conscious and suspicious, but he don’t say nothing. 

“Is there something you would like?” Genji says. 

“Like?” Jesse says blankly. Genji laughs. 

“To do,” he clarifies. “Is there something you would like to do.” 

“Oh.” Jesse’s face burns. That was pretty obvious, as a question. Still . . . “Darlin’, you know I ain’t picky. I just wanna get my hands on you.” 

“I want to do something for you,” Genji says, putting his hands on his shoulders and lightly smoothing them along. It ain’t a question Genji’s asked him before, or at least not quite in this way. Sometimes back in the day he’d offered things he’d _thought_ Jesse had wanted, thought Jesse’d rarely been able to figure out where he’d gotten the idea. He would’ve liked the offering, except Genji’d always seemed to be trying to make up for something with it. 

He really hopes that ain’t what this is. 

“Well, that’s real sweet of you, darlin’,” he says carefully, catching Genji’s elbows to cradle in his hands and looking up at the other. “But I think I’d like just about anything if it’s you doing it. You know that, right?” 

“I know,” Genji says, stroking his shoulders again. Jesse wonders if that’s what Hanzo’s doing here—if Genji still thinks he’s lacking something, somewhere, and is gonna keep doing this until he figures out he ain’t. 

He don’t quite know how to have that conversation, though, especially not _with_ Hanzo here. Seems . . . complicated. 

He just don’t want Genji to think _he_ thinks he’s lacking something. 

“I want you,” Jesse says. “Ain’t fussed about the rest.” 

. . . was that a stupid thing to say? That might’ve been a stupid thing to say. 

Genji tilts his head with a low hum, sliding his hands up to Jesse’s neck and cupping his face again. Jesse tilts his face into his grip, hoping he ain’t being obvious, and Genji presses their foreheads together again. Jesse feels just the littlest bit spun, and very, very obvious. 

“Can I take your shirt off?” Genji says. 

“Yeah, okay,” Jesse says. Genji starts unbuttoning him. He feels hyper-aware of both of their eyes on him, even though he ain’t even sure Genji’s even actually looking at him. 

“McCree,” Hanzo says, touching his jaw. Jesse . . . hates him, mostly. He ain’t sure what else to do. 

“Shimada,” he says. 

“Is it so difficult to tell us what you want?” Hanzo says. Considering Jesse went a bit overboard on the “tell me” with him, he guesses it’s a fair question. He really don’t have a proper answer, though. 

“Told you I ain’t picky,” he says, for lack of a better response. 

“Hn.” Hanzo narrows his eyes at him, just barely, and tilts his head back. Jesse lets him, though he ain’t thrilled about it. Genji drops to his knees to finish unbuttoning his shirt. Jesse . . . well, he notices that, definitely. 

Hanzo looks at him for a moment longer, then goes to his knees beside Genji. Jesse _definitely_ notices _that_ , mostly below the belt. It’d be pretty fucking hard to miss. 

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, raking a hand back through his hair. 

“I suppose if you have no preference, we will have to think of something,” Hanzo says neutrally, putting a hand on his thigh. 

“If we must,” Genji says, sounding amused. Jesse exhales, not sure what to say. What’s the _not_ obvious option, here? What’s the normal thing to do? 

Probably go with it, he guesses. 

“I believe in your creative capacity,” he says, leaning back in his seat and putting on a lazy, crooked grin. Hanzo eyes him, just for a moment; Genji laughs. 

"Do you now?" he says. Jesse loves that amused tone. He could really get used to it. 

He'd _love_ to get used to it. 

"I absolutely do," he says. 

Hanzo snorts, clearly unimpressed. Jesse ain't judging _him_ , dammit. At least, not any more than usual. 

"Idiot," Hanzo says, pushing his hand up his thigh. 

"Sweet as ever," Jesse says. "By which I mean not sweet at all, for the record." 

"Is he always so difficult?" Hanzo says. 

"I think you should know the answer to that by now," Genji says. 

"So yes, then." 

"I think you just bring it out of me, Shimada," Jesse says. 

"As usual, I should have just fucked your mouth," Hanzo says musingly, tugging at Jesse's zipper. 

"Promises, promises," Jesse says as Genji takes his boots off. He ain't sure he wants to be naked right now, but that's probably what's about to happen. Hanzo sneers at him, then ducks his head to bite the inside of his thigh through his pants and pointedly tug at them. Jesse ain't sure how he feels about that. He lifts his hips, though, and Hanzo pulls them down. 

It don't take much more effort before he's sitting there naked. He ain't thrilled about it, though he can't quite pin down why. 

"You too," he says, giving Hanzo's ponytail a tug. Hanzo sneers at him again but starts taking his shirt off. So, small favors there. "That's awful nice of you."

"I am not interested in being nice," Hanzo says, dropping his shirt on the floor. Jesse idly tugs the scarf out of his hair and drops it too. 

"Then what are you doing on your knees?" he says. Hanzo glowers up at him, which makes Jesse feel kind of like fucking _his_ mouth. 

"Good question," Genji says, getting back to his feet and leaning over to loop his arms around Jesse's neck. Jesse looks up at him, obviously. Genji hums. "Would you like to be fucked, Jesse? We can take turns." 

"Ngh," Jesse says. 

"Or you could fuck us, of course," Genji continues as Hanzo stands up too to get out of the rest of his clothes. "Unless you would prefer being between us again? You seemed to like that." 

"I did," Jesse says, though he honestly don't know what he _would_ prefer. There's options, clearly. "I just wanna touch you, darlin'. Rest is up to you, far as I'm concerned." 

"Mmm," Genji says, then turns his head towards Hanzo, who looks back at him. Genji tilts his head. Hanzo strips off the last of his clothes. "Hanzo?" 

"I say we fuck him," Hanzo says. Jesse's mouth goes dry. 

"Hm," Genji says, tilting his head the other way. "Yes. I would like to do that." 

"Alright," Hanzo says, looking at Jesse again. Jesse feels vaguely like he's about to be in for some trouble here. Or maybe not so vaguely, considering. "McCree?" 

"Fine by me," some much more collected part of Jesse manages to say. 

"Very well, then," Hanzo says, and Genji pulls him to his feet. Jesse follows, because of course he does, and Genji brings him over to the bed. 

"Jesse," he says, seemingly just to say it. Jesse don't mind that at all. Genji sits down on the bed and tugs him down after him, gently, so Jesse ends up laying down with his back against the other's chest. Hanzo sits down in front of him and reaches under the bed for the lube, because he's had sex with them in here before and so Hanzo knows where he keeps his lube, Christ. 

What a fucking thought. 

"Are you comfortable?" Genji says, brushing his hands over Jesse's chest. 

"Sure," Jesse says, though actually he could probably climb the walls right now and still feel a bit too wired. He don't blame himself for that, personally. 

"Relax, then," Hanzo says as he slicks up his fingers and leans in between his thighs. Jesse resists the irrational urge to kick him. 

Well. Maybe not irrational, but still. 

He _is_ admittedly a bit more tense than he should be, not to admit to any impression of Hanzo maybe being . . . not _right_ , exactly, just . . . not necessarily wrong. 

He exhales, forcing the tension out of his body, and Hanzo leans in further and slides a hand up his thigh. Jesse feels like he's being coaxed, which annoys him, but he don't say nothing about it. He spreads his thighs a bit further, making more room for Hanzo, and Hanzo puts his mouth in his neck and bites down. It's probably gonna leave a mark, from the feel of it. 

Hanzo is gonna leave a lot of marks, Jesse can't help but suspect. 

"You're so fucking slow," he says. Hanzo bites him again, no surprise. 

"I can take my time if I like," he says. 

"Waste time, you mean?" Jesse asks, cocking an eyebrow. Hanzo lifts his head enough to glower at him for a moment, then ducks it again to bite at his chest and probably mark it up too. He puts his fingers against his hole, at least, and pushes one in. Jesse lets out a huffed breath, putting his hand on one of the arms Genji has around him, and Genji strokes his chest. That's a lot more soothing than anything Hanzo could do, Jesse thinks. Although so would be basically anything Genji did, really. 

"Let us be nice to you," Genji murmurs, and Jesse relaxes a little more. He don't know what's got him tense at all, honestly. 

"Yeah, okay," he says, squeezing Genji's arm. Hanzo crooks his finger, rubbing carefully inside him, and Jesse huffs again. It's Hanzo's fault, he decides vaguely. Might as well be. 

Everything else is, after all. 

Hanzo works another finger into him slow and gentle, and Jesse's practically offended. He ain't made of _glass_ , for fuck's sake. But Genji asked, so he don't complain. Hanzo scissors his fingers carefully, and Jesse continues to find him a fucking nuisance, which sure is something to find a man who's about to fuck him. Hanzo is exactly that sort of man, however. 

He sure as shit wouldn’t be thinking _Genji_ was a nuisance, if their positions were reversed. 

Genji’s touching him, at least, running his hands up and down his chest and cradling his body with his own, so that mollifies him enough to put up with Hanzo’s unnecessarily slow approach to things. Genji strokes his ribs and Hanzo rocks his fingers into him and Jesse, mostly, waits. He reaches back to put a hand on Genji, cupping the side of his face, and Genji tilts his head into the contact even though he probably ain’t really feeling it, which is even more mollifying. 

Jesse could say some shit, probably, but he’s torn between telling Hanzo he’s an asshole and telling Genji he’s the best thing on earth and it’s something of a dichotomy. 

“Jesse,” Genji hums, stroking his chest again. Jesse melts a bit. Or a lot, maybe, but he’s trying to act normal here. Hanzo twists his fingers inside him—fucking _carefully_ , again—and Jesse hisses. It feels good, even though it’s taking too damn long. 

“Yeah?” he says, figuring it’s better to focus on the positives—i.e., Genji—and Genji hums again. 

“Nothing,” he says. “It is just nice to touch you. I missed it.” 

Yeah, Jesse fucking melts. Every time Genji says he missed something, he might as well be a damn _puddle_. 

“I missed everything about you,” he says, then wonders if that was too obvious and is . . . pretty sure it was, yeah, goddammit. How is he supposed to be not obvious when for the longest time he didn’t even know he _was_ being obvious? 

Fucking Christ. 

“Me too,” Genji says warmly, and then Jesse don’t care about being obvious. So what? He’ll be as obvious as he damn likes, long as it don’t bother Genji none. He tips his head back to look up at the other and puts a hand on his knee and Genji makes a quiet, content sound and brushes his fingers along his collarbone. Jesse is perfectly aware of Hanzo stretching him, leaning over him, but it’s barely relevant. The important thing is Genji, like every time. 

Yeah, alright. He’s definitely obvious. That’s . . . definitely a thing. 

Hanzo takes his fingers out of him, and Jesse belatedly thinks to glance at him. Hanzo’s got a condom, who knows where from, and he’s tearing it open to roll onto his dick. Jesse watches, mostly ‘cause the angle to watch Genji’s a bit awkward. 

“Are you ready?” Hanzo says. 

“That was kinda your responsibility, wasn’t it?” Jesse says, cocking an eyebrow at him. Hanzo glowers, as usual. 

“Very funny,” he says sourly. 

“I’m definitely ready,” Jesse says, since he probably actually should answer, even though he thinks the answer’s pretty damn obvious. “You slow bastard.” 

“Must you always be contrary?” Hanzo says irritably, then leans forward again and guides his cock against Jesse’s hole, and Jesse watches him frown and has the odd little urge to smooth it away. 

He wonders, again, if there’s any family resemblance. 

“Yes,” he says, and Hanzo pushes into him, and, _“Yes,”_ he sighs. At least Hanzo knows how to use his cock, if nothing else. 

“So difficult,” Hanzo mutters, leaning over him as he rocks his hips in. Jesse groans, gripping the back of his shoulders. He’d rather hold onto Genji, but Genji don’t need the encouragement to actually do something and Hanzo apparently does. 

“Yeah, yeah, just like that, hurry up,” he grunts, digging his fingers into the other’s back. Hanzo sneers at him, the fucker, but at least he thrusts a little faster too. Jesse bares his teeth at him. “C’mon, Shimada, c’mon, c’mon —” 

Hanzo fucks him. Genji holds onto him. Jesse groans a few more times, moving back into Hanzo’s thrusts, and Genji sort of . . . _purrs_ , almost, and curls up tighter around him. Jesse ain't sure what he's doing to get that reaction, but he ain't complaining. Genji's lights pulse a little brighter, and Jesse drags his nails down Hanzo's back. They make a real weird-looking knot, he's betting, but again, he ain't complaining. 

Though maybe he could complain about Hanzo being here, he guesses. If he was gonna complain about anything while he's got a dick up his ass, anyway. 

"More, more, c'mon," he says, and Hanzo grunts in irritation and grabs his thighs to push them farther apart. Jesse growls at him for no better reason than that it's _Hanzo_ , dragging his nails again, and Genji nuzzles into his neck, the sharp, cold edge of his mask pressed tight against his hot skin. "C'mon, Shimada, show me what you got." 

"Be patient," Hanzo says tersely, fucking him to the same too-slow rhythm. 

"Naw, no way, _c'mon_ ," Jesse says, wrapping a leg around him and kicking his heel into his ass impatiently. "Giddy up, partner, give a man a _ride_." 

"Be _patient_ ," Hanzo snaps. 

"Still naw," Jesse says. "You're such a whore for it when you're the one getting fucked, pay it forward already." 

"Ungrateful," Hanzo says, then _snaps_ his hips in. Jesse _moans_. 

"Yeah, that, just like that, c'mon, c'mon, don't stop now," he rattles off quick, gripping him tighter. Hanzo keeps fucking him, though he looks pissed off. It's Hanzo, though, so when don't he look pissed off? 

“McCree,” Hanzo growls, and for once it actually don’t sound exactly like Genji always said it. 

“The one and only,” Jesse says, smirking up at him. Hanzo growls again; snaps his hips in _tight_. Jesse groans. He’d rather not, but he ain’t made of stone. “Ah, ah, ah—” 

“Shut up,” Hanzo says, putting a hand over his mouth. Jesse bites him. “Nn!” 

“Good fucking luck with that,” Jesse says breathlessly, tilting his hips up. Hanzo bares his teeth at him and Jesse holds onto him hard as he can, hoping it rankles, hoping Hanzo fucking _bruises_ from it. He’s bruised the man up more than a few times now, and this time ain’t gonna be no different. “Oh, oh, don’t stop, give it to me, give it to me, yeah yeah _yeah_ —” 

“I _should_ stop,” Hanzo says darkly. 

“Yeah, but you ain’t gonna, right?” Jesse says, smirking up at him again. “Feels too good, right, bet you can’t fucking get enough.” 

“Shut _up_ , Hanzo says, which is definitely a “yes”. 

“So fucking greedy,” Jesse says. “So fucking _needy_.” 

Hanzo snarls at him. Jesse smirks wider. Genji . . . hums, quietly, and slides a hand down over Jesse’s stomach. 

“I cannot imagine how you two manage to have sex without me,” he muses, tilting his head against Jesse’s. 

“About like this,” Jesse says wryly, then curses as Hanzo thrusts _deep_. “Ah, fuck!” 

“Greedy enough for you?” Hanzo says. 

“Could be trying a little harder,” Jesse says breathlessly. Hanzo glares at him, then starts fucking _jackhammering_ into him. Jesse starts cursing again, grabbing the back of one of Genji’s hands and squeezing it tight. It’s the metal one, fortunately, ‘cause he grabbed it with his own prosthetic and the grip strength in that thing ain’t always as trustworthy as he’d like. 

“I see,” Genji says, squeezing back. Jesse really just gets pressure feedback from that hand, not real sensation, but somehow it still feels nice anyway. “Be nice, brother.” 

“I am doing as he asked,” Hanzo grunts out through gritted teeth. 

“Mmm, fair enough,” Genji says, drawing a hand through Jesse’s hair. Jesse leans into it with a groan. “You should be nice anyway, though.” 

“Do I tell you how to fuck him?” Hanzo snaps. 

“Well, we do not want him getting sore too quickly,” Genji says, which is all _sorts_ of promising, Jesse thinks. Hanzo growls, but changes his pace to long, slow thrusts that ain’t half as overwhelming. Jesse would complain, maybe, but: Genji. 

“Think you _can_ make me sore?” he does say, wrapping his legs tighter around Hanzo, who just snaps his teeth at him with an irritated noise. “Mmm, I’m not hearing a ‘yes’ . . .” 

“Fuck you,” Hanzo says. 

“Yeah, that’s the idea, Shimada,” he drawls. “Fill me up good, fuck me _right_.” 

“Take your time,” Genji says mildly. “No rush.” 

“Oh, there’s a rush,” Jesse says. “Faster he comes, faster I get _you_ in me.” 

Genji laughs. Jesse wasn’t really joking, obviously. Hanzo bites his throat, rolling his hips in tight. And he’s good at it, yeah, but he ain’t Genji. Genji’s _better_. 

The best, really. Everything about him is just right, down to every last piece of him. 

Jesse don’t say that, though, ‘cause he’s trying to be normal here and that probably ain’t normal. Ain’t polite, either, talking about somebody else’s dick when somebody is fucking you and all. Even if that somebody _is_ somebody like goddamn Hanzo. 

Hanzo groans against his neck, his shoulders drawing up tight and arms starting to shake. It ain’t too subtle, so far as body language goes. 

“Gonna come already?” Jesse asks, purposefully clutching up around him. “We really gotta work on your stamina, Shimada.” 

“No harm in it,” Genji says with another laugh, trailing his hand across his stomach. “I will take care of you.” 

“Well apparently your brother can’t, so I’m glad somebody’s picking up the slack there,” Jesse says. Hanzo _growls_. “Yeah, what, tell me different.” 

“You are impossible,” Hanzo says, wrapping a hand around Jesse’s cock and squeezing pointedly. Jesse snorts. 

“What, to get off?” he says. “Pretty sure that’s a failing on your part.” 

“Genji,” Hanzo growls. 

“Mm?” 

“I am going to make him sore.” 

“Promises, promises,” Jesse says. Hanzo resettles himself on the mattress, adjusting his center of balance, and then strokes Jesse’s cock and snaps his hips into him. And then does it again, and again, and _again_ — 

Jesse might be cursing a bit again. Just a bit. 

Maybe a lot. 

Hanzo really is _good_ at this, the bastard. Fucking relentless when he wants to be, fucking _ruthless_ when he wants to be, and in possession of a real nice cock that feels real fucking good. Jesse might hate the bastard, but he can’t argue with any of that. 

“Oh, hey, that’s a little better,” he manages to gasp out, and Hanzo leans heavier into him, hitching his hips up, and somehow finds it in himself to thrust even harder, _fuck_. Jesse is suddenly a lot more into this than he was ten seconds ago. A whole _hell_ of a lot. 

Well, if Hanzo’s going to put his fucking _back_ into it . . . 

“Yeah, yeah, okay, just like that,” Jesse groans, grabbing at the other’s back again, clinging to him _tight_. Jesus fuck. Jesus _fucking_ fuck. That is—so much better, holy shit. “Ah, ah, ahhhhh, oh God, oh God—” 

“Am I picking up the slack yet, McCree?” Hanzo asks spitefully, reaching up to yank his hair and pushing his mouth up his throat, teeth dragging sharply. Jesse will take that out of his hide later, but for right now really could not care less. Just—later, later. 

“Harder, harder, c’mon, I ain’t gonna break,” he pants, tightening his grip on him, and Hanzo fucks him harder. 

It is _real_ nice. Definite improvement. No complaints, except for the obvious one of it being Hanzo doing it. 

“Shut up,” Hanzo hisses, twisting his grip on his cock and gripping his ass roughly with his free hand. Maybe he’ll leave some bruises too. 

“Harder, harder,” Jesse keeps panting, because he’s all for egging the behavior on. Anyway, he ain’t even saying anything that bad. “Come in me, you fucking whore, greedy bastard, needy _slut_.” 

Okay, ain’t saying _much_ that bad. 

“You say the sweetest things,” Genji hums, smoothing a hand down his chest. 

See? Genji likes it. It’s fine. 

Hanzo growls against his throat, then mouths down it all teeth and tongue and twists his grip on his cock again, hips snapping in. Jesse bucks up into it and claws up his back. He’s damn sure he’s leaving scratches and could not care less. He’d like to leave _scars_. 

Hanzo could use a few more of those, anyway. 

Jesse moans, Hanzo groans, and Genji hums, just a little bit. Jesse might be this close to coming just from that pleased little sound. He’d try to hold out longer, but . . . well, why? He ain’t the one doing the fucking, he can come whenever he damn well pleases. 

So he don't worry about it, and he lets himself feel it, and he moans and shudders and moves up into Hanzo as the other fucks him. It's a damn sight better than it was before and it ain't hard at all to get to the edge. 

"Yeah, yeah, don't stop, glad to see you're good for _something_ ," he manages, and Hanzo keeps moving, keeps fucking him and fucking him and _fucking_ him, and Jesse holds on tight and rides it out. 

"McCree," Hanzo growls, snapping his hips into him faster, and Genji touches his face real softly and murmurs, "Jesse." Two guesses as to which of those Jesse comes for. 

Ain't much of a guess, he thinks. 

_"Genji,"_ he gasps, and comes cursing and moaning and clinging, and Hanzo buries his teeth in his neck and fucks him through it, 'til he's fucking _shouting_ with it. He probably says some things, but damned if he knows what they are. Ain't really important, anyway. 

"Jesse," Genji hums again, his lights brightening, and Jesse half-collapses against him in a sticky mess, struggling to breathe. Hanzo fucks into him a few more times, then jerks to a stop, shuddering roughly. Jesse assumes he just came, but ain't interested enough to ask. Instead he breathes in unsteady gulps, feeling weak and well-fucked, and reaches up to put a hand on Genji's cheek. 

"Oh, darlin', that was _something_ ," he says reverently. 

"Do not thank me, Hanzo did the work," Genji says, sounding amused. 

"Yeah, well, _Hanzo_ ," Jesse says, hissing faintly as Hanzo pulls his softening cock out of him. Genji tugs at his jaw and he tilts his face up towards him. "Mm?" 

"Not too sore, are you?" Genji says, all his lights so bright and pretty. 

"For you, darlin'?" Jesse says. "Never." 

"Oh, good," Genji say warmly, and pushes him forward. Jesse lets him, obviously, and ends up on his hands and knees and practically on top of Hanzo. It is maybe a less desirable position than it could be, but then Genji's leaning over his back and running his hands all over him and well, he'll live with it. 

"Genji?" he says, feeling overheated and overwhelmed that easy, or maybe just still feeling overheated and overwhelmed, and Genji hums at him. It's oddly soothing, for such a little sound. Jesse glances back over his shoulder at him, curling his fingers in the sheets. His lights really are pretty, he thinks. 

"How many times do you think you can come, Jesse?" Genji asks like it's a polite curiosity and not one of the hottest things anyone's ever said to him. 

"Guess we're about to find out, ain't we," Jesse says, and Genji laughs and reaches for the lube. Something clicks down in Genji's pelvis, he reaches down to touch himself, and then his slicked-up cock is pushing into Jesse without further preamble. It feels fucking perfect, no surprise, and Jesse groans adoringly and pushes back into it. "Ohhhh, sweetheart, ain't you just the best damn thing to ever happen to a man." 

"Always such flattery," Genji says fondly, stroking a hand down his spine. He rocks his hips in, and it's too much too soon and Jesse ain't even _close_ to hard again, but he damn sure ain't gonna stop him. It's perfect, like every damn time Genji touches him. There's still come on his stomach and that's probably gonna be real annoying later, but right now he don't even slightly care. "Hanzo?" 

"Yes," Hanzo says, and leans in and strokes his hands across Jesse's shoulders and puts his mouth behind his ear. Jesse shudders, 'cause there ain't no helping it, and shifts his hips backwards. Genji seems to take that as some kinda permission, 'cause that's when he starts fucking him proper. He moves in slow, easy thrusts that are immediately making Jesse wild, and he jerks back into Genji with stuttering hips. 

"Genji," he says, already out of breath again. It's definitely too soon. He definitely don't care. "Oh, darlin', what a cock you've got, it always does me right." 

"Happy to serve," Genji says lightly, hooking a hand under his hip and rolling his own hips in just that little bit deeper. Jesse about chokes. It feels _real_ nice. 

"And you call me greedy," Hanzo says dubiously, though his hands are still all over Jesse. Seems about right, for how they get on. 

"Aw, don't be sour 'cause I'm the one getting dicked," Jesse drawls with a smug smirk. Hanzo glowers at him, then gives one of his nipples a sharp little pinch. "Ah! You flirting, now?" 

"I should just keep your head in my lap," Hanzo says irritably. 

"Mmm, you got it up again already?" Jesse asks, smirking wider. "Or your mouth writing checks your ass can't cash?" 

Hanzo _glowers_. Jesse laughs. Genji strokes a hand down his back, then rolls his hips in again in a way that has Jesse shuddering. Makes him feel a whole lot of things, mostly about Genji. 

"Yeah, sweetheart, yeah," he says, forgetting about Hanzo as irrelevant. "Fuck me stupid, I wanna feel you all _week_." 

"I would like that," Genji says, brushing his hands up his sides on another long, slow thrust. Jesse shivers underneath them, fisting his own in the blankets again. It feels real, real good. "I like the thought of you thinking of me when I am not there." 

"Believe me, I think about you fucking _constantly_ ," Jesse says with another shiver. "'Constantly' might not even cover it, honestly."

That's too much, definitely, but . . . 

"Me too," Genji says softly, thrusting into him again. "I think about you all the time." 

_Jesus_. 

"Can't say as I mind that," Jesse says, feeling more than a bit spun. 

"Good," Genji murmurs, wrapping his arms around him and pushing his forehead against his back; still thrusting in those long slow strokes. Jesse ducks his head, trying to breathe right. "I like thinking about you." 

That ain't helping him breathe right. 

"Good," Jesse manages. "That's—good." 

"You two are ridiculous," Hanzo says. Jesse thinks about shoving him off the bed. 

"Go to hell," he says, though it comes out a bit breathy. He can't be blamed for that, under the circumstances. 

"Eventually," Hanzo says. He puts his hands on Jesse's shoulders and slides them up to his throat. They are some damn fine hands. 

Also symmetrical ones, he can't help but notice. 

"Sooner than later, I'm betting," Jesse says. Hanzo strokes his thumbs behind his ears, then leans in and presses his mouth to the corner of his eye. It takes Jesse a second to recognize it as a kiss, and he jerks when he does. It ain't _kissing_ , though, so—

Hanzo does it again. And then one more time. Jesse turns his face away with a grimace. It's one thing when Hanzo's biting up his neck or chest, but kissing his _face_ . . . 

Yeah, no. He don't like that. 

"Knock it off," he says. 

"Why?" Hanzo asks. 

"'Cause I _said_ to, why else?" Jesse shoots back. 

"Hm," Hanzo says, and then kisses his throat instead, but not like he has been. It's real soft and sweet and _not Hanzo_ , and Jesse don't know what he thinks he's doing. He grabs the back of the other's hair and pulls him off, and Hanzo gives him an unreadable look. 

"What're you doing?" he says. 

"Nothing," Hanzo says. "It is only kissing." 

"I don't wanna be kissed," Jesse says, though that's half a lie. If Genji took off that mask right now and leaned in—

But that ain't what's happening. And he's fine with that not happening, but he ain't fine with Hanzo doing _this_. 

"Why not?" Hanzo says neutrally. 

"Because, dammit!" Jesse snaps. Genji's hands smooth across his stomach soothingly and he shudders underneath them, but it don't make him no more happy about the kissing thing. 

"I see," Hanzo says, still sounding fucking _neutral_. 

"Alright?" Genji asks, hooking his chin over Jesse's shoulder and slowing his thrusts, which is about the last damn thing Jesse's interested in having happen right now. Or next-to-last, at least. 

"Fine," Jesse says, reaching back to cover one of his hands with his own. "Don't stop, darlin', you know I don't want you to do that." 

"I will not," Genji says, squeezing his arms around him briefly and then thrusting quicker again. It still ain't actually fast, but Jesse don't mind that none. Genji still makes it feel good. 

"Good," he says, and Genji hums. Hanzo puts his hands on his face again, fucking _gently_ , and Jesse spares him a dirty look. Fucking—

"Jesse," Genji sighs into his back, and Jesse melts. It's hard not to, and he don't _wanna_ not to, so . . . 

Genji fucks him harder. Hanzo don't take his hands off his face, the asshole. Jesse shakes him off, then ducks his head again. He concentrates on how Genji's making him feel, and not the other Shimada in the bed. Ain't much cause to pay attention to him, he figures. 

"Genji, Genji, c'mon," he groans, and Genji shudders against his back. 

"You feel so good," he says. 

"Look who's talking," Jesse says with a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "Fuck, sweetheart, you feel _perfect_. Gonna think about this all day tomorrow." 

"Good," Genji says, squeezing him again; fucking his hips in tighter. "I want you to." 

"Oh, definitely," Jesse groans, pushing back into him. "I'll think about anything you want, darlin', long as you keep treating me so nice." 

Or just no matter what, really. But saying that would be . . . obvious, probably. 

"You deserve to be treated nicely," Genji says, and Jesse tries to think of an answer that won't be _obvious_ but ain't coming up with much. 

"Come in me," he says in the end, pushing back into him and clutching up around his cock; reaching a hand back to his hip. "I wanna feel _that_." 

"Gladly," Genji says, curling his fingers against his stomach as he snaps his hips in deeper. Jesse groans. Genji puts his hands all over him, or at least almost all over him—he ain't touching his cock, really, or spending too much time anyplace in particular. It feels real good, but it ain't enough to get off to. Jesse might be frustrated if he hadn't just come a few minutes ago, and he'd _definitely_ be frustrated if it were Hanzo instead of Genji, but for the moment . . . yeah, for the moment it's pretty nice. 

He grinds back into Genji's body and groans louder, and Genji fucks him until they're both shaking, until it's almost too much, until it's fucking _perfect_ —

Genji buries his face against the back of his shoulder, the sharp edges of his mask pressing in tight, and comes. Jesse's pretty good at recognizing it, even after all this time. 

"Yeah, good, just like I wanted," he rasps back at him, and Genji sighs against his shoulder. 

"Hanzo," he says, pushing gently at him as he moves back, and Jesse's being pulled into Hanzo's lap a moment later. He didn't even notice the fucker putting the condom on, much less getting in that close. 

"Fuck," Jesse says, and Hanzo pulls him down onto his cock. _"Fuck."_

"That would be the idea, yes," Hanzo says dryly. Jesse does the natural thing, which is to wrap his arms around his neck and fucking _ride_ him. There is a very weird part of him that's way too turned on by how easy the two of them are passing him back and forth, but he don't really wanna articulate that. At least, not to Hanzo. 

"Yeah, yeah," he says, 'cause that's less damning. He kind of don't even wanna come, he just wants _Hanzo_ to come and then hand him off to Genji again, and then vice versa that maybe once or twice. That idea sounds . . . real appealing, actually. 

Way too appealing. 

Fuck. 

Hanzo ain't doing too much of the work, Jesse can't help but notice. He digs his knees into the mattress and sits down _hard_ in the other's lap, and Hanzo grunts roughly and grips his hips. Jesse takes that as encouragement to go faster. Seems like a good idea to him, really. Hell, he'll fucking wring Hanzo _dry_. 

Yeah, he likes that idea. 

Jesse grinds down into Hanzo's lap, clenching tight around his cock, and moves his hips quick and demanding. Hanzo hisses, digging his nails in, and Jesse decides that he's gonna fuck him through the _mattress_. Like, really, he might just break the fucking bed. 

"You look so good like that," Genji says with a pleased sigh, trailing a hand up his back. 

Jesse is absolutely going to break the bed. He is gonna fucking _obliterate_ it. 

"Enjoy it, sweetheart," he says, yanking Hanzo's head back by his hair and burying his mouth in the other's neck to bite and suck. He's gonna mark him up for sure. He always wants to mark Hanzo up. 

He's gonna break his fucking _dick_ , given half the chance. 

"No patience," Hanzo grunts. Jesse bites his jaw. 

"Too _slow_ ," he counters. "Don't complain, I know you like it. I can _feel_ you, you're so fucking hard. How long you gonna last this time?" 

"Longer than you," Hanzo says icily. 

"Naw, not this time," Jesse says, grinning sharply at him; dropping his hips again and clenching around him. Hanzo hisses. Jesse grinds down. "Oh yeah, Shimada, you're gonna come for me, I'm gonna fucking _wreck_ you." 

"Shut the fuck up," Hanzo growls. He has a limited array of comebacks, clearly. Jesse finds himself not minding so much. 

"I'll shut up if you can ever convince me you ain't getting off on me talking," he says, rolling his hips harder and getting a few real tasty curses out of Hanzo for it. He laughs. "You're so fucking _easy_ , Shimada, how the hell were _you_ the obedient one?" 

"McCree," Hanzo says thinly, which obviously ain't an answer, but again, Jesse don't mind so much. 

"Shimada," he says coaxingly, fucking himself faster and really, really enjoying the scrunched-up and overwhelmed look on Hanzo's face and the tension in his body as he shudders underneath him. He could come real easy right now, but he meant it, he's gonna outlast Hanzo. He'll come for Genji, when he does. 

He'd rather come for Genji, generally speaking, but also especially when it means wrecking Hanzo first. 

"Shimada, Shimaaaada," he keeps saying, keeps coaxing, and Hanzo buries a string of curses and nonsense in his shoulder, shoulders drawing up tight and nails raking his thighs. "Yeah, that's right, you're gonna come for me, ain't you, just like a good whore. Ain't that gonna be sweet." 

_"Nn,"_ Hanzo says, _shaking_ , and Jesse bites him a few places that make him shake even harder. 

"There we go, there we go, c'mon, c'mon, I know you're gagging for it," Jesse says, and Hanzo grips his hips and thrusts up into him and it don't take long at all before he's burying a heated, strangled cry in Jesse's throat. Jesse fucking _purrs_ , clutching up around him. 

He hates the bastard, yeah, but he loves making him lose it. 

"Yeah, so easy," he says, pulling off Hanzo's softening erection as the other struggles to breathe, as he aches inside, feeling all empty and neglected. He wants a cock in him again real bad. 

Genji puts a hand on his back. 

Ask and ye shall receive, Jesse thinks, glancing back to him. He's lit up real bright. 

"You up for it?" he asks, glancing down to the other's pretty, shiny cock. It definitely _looks_ up for it. 

"Always," Genji says, stroking the small of his back. Jesse shudders, then turns around to face him proper. Genji tugs him forward a bit, and he ends up on his back on the bed, head on Hanzo's somehow _still_ tense thigh. Jesse has no idea how anyone can be tense so quick after coming, much less _that_ tense. 

Fucking Hanzo. 

Genji shifts forward and slides into him easy as anything and Jesse wraps himself around his body, pushing up into him. He ain't tense at all. 

"Oh, oh yeah, sweetheart," Jesse groans, tipping his head back. Hanzo puts a hand on his chest. Jesse tilts his hips for Genji. "Oh, you fill me just right. Lemme have it." 

Genji lets him have it. He fucks into him with long, steady thrusts, and Jesse moans and groans and fucking _melts_ for it. He don't wanna move maybe ever again, he thinks, so long as Genji don't go nowhere either. He's just so damn _good_. 

"Do you like it?" Genji asks, sliding his hands up his thighs and over his hips. 

"Fucking _love_ it," Jesse says feelingly, nodding against Hanzo's thigh. "Feels so good, feels _just_ right." 

"Good," Genji says. He keeps fucking him steadily, keeping perfect rhythm, and Jesse groans louder, shuddering with it. Genji makes it feel so _good_. Ain't nothing Genji can't make feel good, he thinks. 

"Damn, damn, _damn_ ," he says, digging his heels into the other's back and tightening his arms around him. 

"Jesse," Genji says, so fucking soft and _tender_ , and Jesse could about lose his damn mind. 

"Genji, darlin'," he says. "Don't stop." 

"Never," Genji murmurs, and he don't. He keeps fucking him just right, keeps moving into and over him, and Jesse keeps losing his mind. He's just so fucking _good_. 

"Feels perfect, fuck, you're fucking _perfect_ ," he rambles, bucking up into him. "More, touch me more, fuck me harder, so _good_ every time, better than ever." 

"You are the best thing I have ever touched," Genji says in that tender voice, and Jesse goddamn _shakes_. 

"Genji, Genji, _Genji_ ," he gasps, clawing at his back, and Genji fucks him and fucks him and _fucks_ him—

"He told me he was not in love with you," Hanzo says, and Genji's hips stutter. 

"What?" he says blankly. 

"He told me he was not in love with you," Hanzo repeats, calm and neutral. Jesse could fucking _kill_ him. 

"Are you fucking _high_?" he grits out. 

"I was not under the impression that he was," Genji says, something . . . odd in his voice. He ain't fucking him no more. Jesse really might kill Hanzo. He's been putting it off, but this might be the thing that makes him do it. What the fuck is _wrong_ with him? 

"Mm," Hanzo says. "Is that what I said?" 

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Jesse says through his teeth, in case it ain't obvious. 

"You are a fool," Hanzo says. Jesse _hates_ him. It ain't a new development, but he really, really fucking hates him. "You do not even know your own mind." 

"For fuck's _sake_ , Shimada," Jesse fumes, shoving himself upright to turn on him. Genji moves back hesitantly, and Jesse'll deal with that in just a minute, but for the moment—"It ain't any of your _business_ , so shut up about it!" 

Not knowing his own mind is not the problem here. 

"You are angry," Hanzo says. 

"Fucking right I am!" Jesse snaps. 

"Why?" Hanzo says. "You do not love him. You told me so. What does it matter if I say it?" 

"It ain't your fucking place to say!" Jesse says. "And you are the _last_ person who gets to talk about him!" 

"I am talking about you," Hanzo says. 

"Go to hell!" 

"Jesse . . ." Genji says slowly, and Jesse bristles all the way up his spine. Dammit. God _dammit_. "You talked to Hanzo about that?" 

"Hanzo talked to _me_ about that," Jesse stresses, looking back to him. "He's just talking shit. He don't know a damn thing." 

"So you . . . _are_ in love with . . ." Genji starts, and trails off. He's sitting very still. Jesse might panic a bit. 

"I didn't say that!" he blurts, _despising_ Hanzo. 

"I see," Genji says. He's still sitting real still. Jesse is still about to panic. 

"I wouldn't do that to you," he lies. Genji looks down at his hands. He curls his fingers. 

"I know," he says. "That would be . . . very foolish. Why would you?"

"Exactly," Jesse says, immediately seizing onto that. "I wouldn't, I'd never fuck with you like that. You're my friend." 

"I am your friend," Genji half-echoes. Jesse wants to put his hands on him so _bad_ but ain't sure it'd help. 

"You are both idiots," Hanzo says. 

"Shut up!" Jesse snaps at him. Hanzo has _more_ than lost the right to talk here. 

"Did you tell him why you will not kiss other people?" Hanzo says. 

"That ain't shutting up, Shimada!" Jesse says furiously. 

"That is not an answer," Hanzo says. 

"You do not kiss other people?" Genji says, sounding . . . confused, mostly. Jesse wants to grab his pants and run the fuck out on this conversation, but it's _Genji_. And, also, his room. 

"You're talking like I make that much time with other people," he says. 

"You . . . do not?" Genji says. "I always assumed . . . I mean, you have sex with _me_. I always assumed that was just . . . something you did with people." 

"I have sex with you 'cause you're _you_ , not to hit some fucking friendship quota," Jesse says, then internally _screams_ because how was that not being obvious?! How was that not a fuck-up?! Genji is gonna _know_ , he's gonna figure him out, he's gonna—

"I do not understand," Genji says. Jesse fucking _despairs_. 

"I like you," he wildly understates. "You're my friend. I have sex with you 'cause I like you more than most people." More than just about anyone, but he don't say that part out loud 'cause he ain't _entirely_ hopeless. 

"I like you more than anyone," Genji says, and Jesse about fucking falls over. Jesus. _Jesus_. 

"Oh," he manages, voice strangled. "Well—good. That's good." 

He _wants_ Genji to like him more than anyone. 

"I should go," Genji says. 

"You should absolutely never go," Jesse says. "Stay right here. Please." 

"I . . ." Genji hesitates uneasily. Jesse wants to _murder_ Hanzo, just for that. Forget everything else; that'd be reason enough. 

"Genji," he says, and reaches out towards the other after all. He ends up with his hands in his hands. Genji . . . well, he don't pull back, at least. "I like you more than anyone too. I've always . . . I like you. A lot. I wouldn't do that to you. Wouldn't get in the way like that." 

"Get in the way?" Genji tilts his head in apparent confusion. Jesse . . . exhales. 

"I know you don't need nothing like that making shit complicated," he says. "I know you _definitely_ don't need no one bothering you when you got bigger problems. I wouldn't do that to you." 

"You do not bother me," Genji says, his voice a little distant. Jesse squeezes his hands. 

"And I ain't ever gonna," he confirms immediately. 

Genji . . . looks at him, he thinks. Maybe. It looks like he is, anyway. Jesse don't think he's ever missed his eyes so bad as he does right now. He just . . . 

"Hanzo thinks you are in love with me," Genji says, like it's a realization. "That is what you were talking about." 

"Because he is," Hanzo says. 

"Shut _up_!" Jesse hisses back at him. "I told you, Genji, I'd never do that to you." 

"You would never bother me," Genji says. 

"That's right," Jesse says. 

"Because . . . you think that would bother me," Genji says, real slow. His hands are limp in Jesse's. Jesse squeezes them again. 

"Yeah," he says. "I swear, I'll be whatever you want. Anything you need. I'd never try to push you on anything like that." 

"Anything," Genji says in that same distant tone. 

"You know I'd pick you over anybody," Jesse says. It wouldn't even be hard. It'd be Genji, every time. No doubt. 

"But you are not in love with me," Genii says. 

"No," Jesse lies. 

Genji . . . _looks_ at him. He's nearly sure. Jesse prays to God that _any_ of that was convincing. He don't know how not to be obvious, when apparently he's been nothing but all this time. 

"Hanzo," Genji says. 

"Mm?" 

"Thank you," Genji says, and then takes his hands back and cups Jesse's face in them and presses their foreheads together. It makes Jesse feel . . . it makes him feel a _lot_. 

"Genji?" he says uncertainly, reaching up to the other's wrists. Genji nuzzles him. 

"I want you to bother me," he says. "I want you to bother me all the time." 

"What?" Jesse says stupidly. 

"Bother me," Genji says. 

"I . . ." Jesse can't finish the sentence; can't figure out what he was gonna say. Genji presses their foreheads together again, tighter. 

"Bother me," he repeats firmly, and Jesse feels like he's just hearing what he wants to hear, here, but . . . 

"Okay," he manages, a little weaker than he means to. "I—you're sure? Really?" 

"Yes," Genji says. "Absolutely." 

"Okay." Jesse blinks, slowly. Feels a little stupid, or a _lot_. Feels like maybe he's just a bit crazy. 

Feels like . . . 

"I love you," he says, and then presses a kiss to Genji's mask, trying to steady himself. It don't really work. "I think maybe I always loved you."

"I love you too," Genji says quietly, and Jesse's heart feels fit to burst. "Always. Yes." 

"I—yeah. Okay," Jesse says, blinking rapidly and lost for what to say. That's . . . that's too much. Or he's not enough. Or . . . 

Or. 

"Okay," Genji says, and then Jesse's just . . . _overwhelmed_ , suddenly, and ain't sure what to say or do or anything, there's just . . . there's just so damn _much_ he could, and it's . . . it's really . . . 

"I love you," he says again. "That's why I won't kiss nobody else." 

It's . . . funny, kind of, hearing it out loud. 

"Jesse," Genji says. Jesse takes his hands in his own and kisses the backs of them. He feels fragile and cracked and like he's spilling over with all the best things he's ever felt, like he's about to spill _himself_. He's smiling, he thinks. It's really hard not to. 

"Yeah," he says senselessly, and then Genji _laughs_ , sweet and warm, and Jesse laughs too because it's the only thing he can do, helpless and lost. Genji puts his hands behind his neck and presses their foreheads together and Jesse leans into it for a moment and then kisses his mask again and again and again, cupping his face in his hands. It's so _easy_ , suddenly, and his stomach's in knots and his heart's in his throat and Genji is _perfect_ , Genji is perfect and _loves him_. 

That's . . . not what he was expecting. Not something he'd ever even thought to expect. 

Not something he'd ever thought would feel so easy. 

"Jesse," Genji says, his voice turning hesitant again, and Jesse kisses his visor and can't imagine what'd _possibly_ make him sound like that right now. "I want . . ." 

"Anything," Jesse promises as he kisses his visor again, immediate and reckless. He ain't scared of a single thing Genji might say. 

"Mm," Genji says, and something clicks. Jesse . . . blinks. 

"Genji?" he says, and Genji's hands move up to his and guide them to little hidden latches. Little hidden latches in . . . 

Jesse unfastens the latches. Can't do anything else, really. 

Genji's mask comes away. 

His face is a mess of brutal scars framed in sharp-edged metal, and maybe the most beautiful thing Jesse's ever seen. 

"Genji," he says, fucking _struck_ , and Genji throws his arms around his neck and kisses him. 

Jesse, obviously, kisses back. Ain't nothing else he could do. Genji surges into it and practically knocks him over, and he feels that overflowing feeling all over again. He sets the mask aside real careful, then pushes his hands over Genji's sides and across his back. Genji pushes into him. 

Jesse don't think he's ever been so glad to kiss somebody. 

"Look at you," he murmurs, leaning back just enough to speak, and Genji hums, mouth curving into a smile. Jesse's heart skips a beat. 

"Later," Genji says, then kisses him again. Jesse leans into it, heart still doing some real inadvisable shit in his chest. He don't know what to do besides kiss him, so he kisses him. It's all he _wants_ to do, so it ain't exactly hard. There’s probably some other things he could be concerned with, but nothing seems as important. There’s Genji, and there’s kissing him, and there ain’t much else. 

"You do not love him, hm?” Hanzo says, reminding Jesse that yeah, right. The bastard’s still here. 

“Fuck you,” he sighs, breaking off the kiss to eye him dubiously. Hanzo looks back at him neutrally. Jesse hates him a bit less than usual, but definitely still hates him. There’s a lot of reasons to hate him, like usual. "Who asked you to stick your nose in, anyway?" 

"Thank you, brother," Genji says quietly, and Jesse’s chest fucking _aches_. He looks back at Genji, because he can hardly believe he took his eyes off him to begin with when the other’s showing him something like this. 

“Do not thank me,” Hanzo says, getting to his feet and picking up his clothes to start redressing. He don’t _deserve_ thanked, so Jesse agrees with that statement, personally. 

“Yeah, don’t thank him,” he says. He wants to touch Genji’s face, but he ain’t sure that’d be alright. He still ain’t sure why Genji wanted to cover it so bad. It’s scarred up, yeah, but so’s the rest of him. 

. . . not that Jesse’s seen too much of the rest of him lately, come to think. 

“Does it hurt?” he says, brushing his fingers along the sharp edges of metal framing Genji’s face, careful not to touch his skin. 

“No more so than anything else,” Genji says, touching the backs of his hands. Hanzo stiffens. Jesse hopes that one fucking _cut_ him. 

“Why’d you show me?” he asks. “You know I don’t care what you look like.” 

“I suppose . . . because you do not care what I look like,” Genji murmurs. “Because I want it to matter what I look like.” 

“You’re still the prettiest thing I ever seen,” Jesse says, and Genji cracks a painful-looking smile. It’s crooked. Because of the scarring, from the look of it. “I mean it.” 

“I know you do,” Genji says. “But I also know that . . . I know what I look like.” 

“Like the prettiest thing I ever seen,” Jesse repeats. Genji keeps giving him that cracked smile. 

“I just did not want you to see me differently. To see . . . what I used to be,” he says. Jesse kisses him. It seems like the only thing to do. 

“Only thing I’m seeing is what you are,” he promises, and then kisses him again. Genji makes a soft noise into it before kissing back, and Jesse hears the door open. 

“Mm?” Genji says, and Jesse glances over his shoulder. It’s Hanzo, obviously, redressed and slipping out. “Hanzo?” 

“You should have privacy,” Hanzo says, voice and spine both stiff. 

“Oh,” Genji says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Hanzo is already closing the door behind him. Jesse . . . frowns, a bit, and ain’t sure what to think. 

There was something odd about the other’s expression, was all. 

“Mm,” Genji says, and Jesse kisses the corner of his jaw. 

“He ain’t wrong,” he says. “I want time alone with you whenever I can get it.” 

“I thought you would enjoy it more if it was both of us,” Genji says. 

“I enjoyed it fine,” Jesse says, looping an arm around his waist and squeezing tight. He presses a kiss to his cheek, mostly for the novelty of being able to do it. “Don’t mean I don’t enjoy you more, darlin’. You’re all I want.” 

“Am I?” Genji says, and for once, Jesse has an easy answer to justify it. 

“You are,” he says. “I love you.” 

Genji blinks, slowly, and Jesse kisses the crooked corner of his mouth. He wants as much of him as he can touch. He wants _all_ of him. Hanzo can go off and do whatever he likes, and he ain’t concerned about that. 

“Jesse,” Genji says, putting his hands on his hips. Jesse kisses his cheek again, making an inquiring noise. “I am sorry.” 

“Sorry?” Jesse says, a little bemused. “What for?” 

“For . . . several things,” Genji says slowly. “I should have told you how I felt. I should not have hidden from you.” 

“Seems to me like you’re right here,” Jesse says. He ain’t sure he woulda known what to do with Genji telling him something like that any sooner, to be honest. 

Genji kisses him again. That ain’t ever gonna stop being heart-stoppingly wonderful, Jesse already knows. That can just keep happening forever, far as he’s concerned. Feels almost too good to handle, like some delicate and breakable thing. 

Genji ain't delicate, though, and Jesse don't feel like the way this feels is breakable. 

"You're so damn good," he says. 

"I want to touch you," Genji says quietly. 

"Anytime," Jesse says, and Genji . . . hesitates. Jesse frowns. "Everything alright?" 

"Yes," Genji says. "Sorry. Just . . ." 

He hesitates a moment longer, and then something clicks in his armor and he puts his hands on a piece of it and just . . . takes it away, revealing tubes and wires and scars. Jesse watches, not quite sure what to think. 

"You know you don't gotta take off anything you don't wanna," he says. Genji seems to wanna show his scars even less these days, and he ain't about to push him on it. 

"I want to," Genji says. 

"Okay," Jesse says, glancing back to his face. If that's what Genji wants . . . "Can I help?" 

". . . yes," Genji says. "You can help." 

"Thank you," Jesse says, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

"It is nothing to thank me for," Genji says, another piece of his armor clicking. Jesse puts his hands on it and finds the latches, carefully unfastening them. 

"You're letting me see you," he says. "I can thank you for that, can't I?" 

"You do not have to," Genji says, watching Jesse take the piece of his armor away. Jesse sets it aside carefully with the mask. 

"I want to," he says. If Genji can say it, so can he. 

"Mm," Genji says. Jesse touches his exposed skin, very lightly. 

"That feel okay?" he asks. He almost asks _"Bad?"_ , but he don't really need to do that anymore, does he. 

"Yes," Genji says. 

"Good," Jesse says. He smooths a hand over Genji's scarred skin and feels . . . all sorts of ways, really. More ways than he even knows how to explain. And kind of like killing Hanzo, all over again. Even if the bastard _did_ finally leave them alone. "I'm real glad you wanna show me this." 

"I do," Genji says. Another piece of his armor clicks, and he takes it off, and then does the same with another. His body's so different from what Jesse remembers, but it's still beautiful. Still Genji. 

"Yeah," Jesse says, and between the two of them they just . . . keep taking away pieces of Genji's armor. More pieces than Jesse thinks he even knew were there, by the end of it. He's seeing familiar skin now, but also parts of Genji he'd never seen, not in all their years in Blackwatch. 

It's . . . different. 

"Genji," he says, once they've stopped. If that's all the armor that can come off or just all that Genji's willing to _take_ off, well, the difference don't really matter. 

"Jesse," Genji says, and Jesse remembers being called just "McCree" so damn many times. 

"What do you want?" he asks, and Genji smiles that crooked smile at him. 

"You, mostly," he says. 

"Sounds good to me," Jesse says with a low laugh. He runs a hand down Genji's left arm and Genji leans into the contact. Jesse thinks about touching him just about everywhere, but settles for taking his hand. "You sure are pretty." 

"Thank you," Genji says, squeezing his hand. 

"Don't gotta thank me for having eyes," Jesse says, and Genji laughs. "Hey, c'mere." 

"Mm?" Genji hums, leaning into him with a smile that about melts him. 

"I like you," Jesse says, then kisses him again, running his hands up his sides. Genji laughs again. 

"I like you more," he says. 

"Not possible," Jesse says, and knocks them both over onto the bed. Genji keeps smiling at him. Jesse feels like he could do just about anything, so long as he keeps that up. "You're the sweetest thing. Got the prettiest smile." 

"Not prettier than yours," Genji says warmly, lifting a hand to touch his face. Jesse nuzzles into it. 

"I'll fight you on that any day," he says. "You're so good. I wanna spend all my time with you." 

"All of it?" Genji asks in amusement. "That would be quite a lot of time." 

"Ain't enough," Jesse says. "I could spend the rest of my life with you and it wouldn't be enough." 

"Wouldn't it?" Genji murmurs, his eyes flicking over his face. They're a soft brown now, not the sharp red he remembers, and not the green he wondered about. Still the prettiest eyes Jesse's ever seen, though. 

"It wouldn't," he says firmly. "You're the best time I ever had." 

"Mmm, better than your misspent youth?" Genji teases, tweaking his nose. 

"Better than both ours put together," Jesse says. 

"I do not know, I had a _very_ good time in mine . . ." 

"Oh, did you?" Jesse scoffs, wrapping his arms around him tight and rolling them over. Genji laughs, putting his own arms around his neck, and laughs again as Jesse mouths down his bared throat. He brings his knees up to squeeze his sides and Jesse strokes the small of his back. Genji sighs, and Jesse kisses him. 

He's gonna be doing that a lot, he thinks. Long as Genji's willing to let him, anyway. 

He kisses him again, and again, and one more time—

"Spoiling me," Genji murmurs between their mouths, and Jesse kisses him again. 

"Any time," he says. "All the time." 

Genji makes a soft noise, and Jesse strokes the side of his face. Genji leans into it; Jesse presses into him. They kiss again, light and easy, and Jesse could goddamn overflow with the feel of it. It's just too damn good. 

"More," he says, and Genji gives it to him. 

That's all he really wants. 

Jesse loses track of time a bit, somewhere in the kissing and petting and the tight little tangle they make of themselves. It ain't really important, compared to everything about Genji. All that matters is getting closer to him. 

Ain't much he wouldn't do for that. 

"Oh, darlin'," he sighs, and Genji kisses him again. Barely stops kissing him, in fact, which is just how Jesse likes it. What else is there to want? 

"Jesse," Genji says, sliding a hand down his side and over his hip. Jesse stretches underneath it. "I want to touch you more." 

"Gotta say, I am quite inclined to that," Jesse says, and Genji rolls into and on top of him and starts kissing down his neck. Jesse tips his head for him; slides a hand up his back and feels good as anything. Ain't many other ways to feel, he figures. 

Genji puts his hands on his ribs and rolls their hips together, once, lazily. Jesse groans. He does it again. 

"You up to something?" Jesse asks with a wry smirk. Genji laughs. 

"Absolutely," he says. He rolls their hips together again and Jesse kisses the corner of his jaw, moving up into him in return. 

"You really are too good," he says with a warm sigh. 

"Not as good as you," Genji says. He lifts up enough to let himself get his hand between them and wraps it around Jesse's cock, stroking slowly, and Jesse sighs again. 

"You're so good," he says again. 

"I will be anything you want," Genji says. 

"Don't worry about it, you got it covered," Jesse says with a low laugh, then hisses quietly as Genji twists his hand around him. That's real, real nice. "Ah, that's pretty damn good too." 

"Mmm, is it?" Genji hums in obvious amusement, pushing his thumb across the head of Jesse's cock and getting another hiss out of him. "I will keep that in mind." 

"Yeah?" Jesse says, moving up into Genji's hand with a groan. "I'll look forward to that, then." 

"Mmm," Genji hums again, then reclaims his hand to spit into his palm and strokes him again, slicker and easier this time. Jesse might actually get off more to the fact that Genji's never done that to him before than anything else, he thinks. It's _new_. 

He's pretty pleased about that, he thinks. 

"You're so good, I love how good you are," he says breathlessly, stroking across his shoulders. "So perfect, every time, and so damn brave." 

"You say such pretty things," Genji says. Jesse gives him a heated grin, reaching for his cock in return and wrapping a hand around it. Genji _sighs_. "Oh, Jesse." 

"You're a treat, sweetheart," Jesse says. "Every time." 

"You are a gift," Genji murmurs. "Every time." 

Jesse kisses him again, because he still ain't sick of getting to do that and ain't ever gonna be, and wraps his fingers tighter around his cock. Genji sighs again, stroking him faster. Jesse does the same and relishes the moan he gets in response. 

Not as much as he relishes the look on Genji's face, though. It's familiar around the eyes, but the rest of it is brand new. And it's lighter, too, not looking like something torn out of him or something he's struggling with. 

Jesse loves it. 

Who wouldn't? 

"C'mere," he says, tugging Genji down until their cocks align and wrapping his hand around both. Genji braces his hands on the bed and grinds down into him, and Jesse strokes them together. It don't take much until Genji is moaning, which is really all Jesse could ask for. He bites his lip, then thinks better of it and bites _Genji's_. 

Genji makes some real nice noises. Jesse delights in every single one. 

"So pretty," he says breathlessly, admiring the look on Genji's face. Genji gives him a wry, heated smile. 

"I want to come inside you," he says. 

"Yeah, I want that too," Jesse agrees immediately, letting go of them. Genji sighs warmly, skimming a hand up his stomach. Jesse grabs the lube off the floor and slicks up Genji's cock for him. 

"Should I prep you again?" Genji asks, pushing a hand along his knee. Jesse snorts. 

"I've literally lost count of how many times I got fucked tonight, I _think_ I'll be fine," he says wryly. 

"I do not want to hurt you," Genji says, and Jesse gives him a fond look. 

"Stupid," he says. "When would you ever?" 

"Never," Genji says, and Jesse shifts his thighs apart and fingers himself a bit, more for the lube and Genji's sake than the actual stretch. Genji watches, and his expression is a fucking _prize_. Jesse's gonna remember that expression, he knows. It's a good one, hungry and lovely and so, so tender. 

He takes his fingers back, and Genji pushes into him. Jesse inhales, tipping his head back, and Genji mouths up his throat. He thrusts slow and easy and Jesse moves into it with low, appreciative noises. It's real, real nice. 

He might've thought that already, but he's pretty sure he thinks something like that every time he's with Genji, no matter what they're doing. 

So Genji fucks him, and he revels in it, and they both get something real nice. 

"You're so good," Jesse says, turning the other's face so he can kiss him, and Genji noises softly into it. "Best damn thing. I fucking _love_ you." 

If he can say it, he's gonna say it a whole hell of a lot. 

"I love you too," Genji says quietly, thrusting deeper. Jesse moans. He feels about like he could _burst_ , how good this feels. He feels like never leaving his fucking bed again, at least not as long as Genji's in it. No damn reason to, far as he’s concerned. “I love you, I love you, I _love_ you—” 

Apparently he ain’t the only one enjoying saying that. 

“Kiss me,” Jesse says, and Genji kisses him—kisses him!—again. It’s soft and warm and so damn good, and Jesse loves it, loves that he can _ask_ for it and that Genji’s willing to give it. 

He comes slow and drawn-out and _perfect_ , comes kissing him, and Genji comes too with a soft, raspy sound. Jesse wants to bite that sound out of the air and keep it behind his teeth. He wants to keep _Genji_ , down to the last goddamn millimeter of him, down to the last _breath_. 

“Genji,” he sighs, and they just sort of shift onto their sides and just . . . lay there, together. They oughta clean up a bit, definitely, but Jesse don’t wanna move to do nothing like that. Genji wipes his fingers through the come on his stomach and brings his fingers up to his mouth and _licks_. 

“Ngh,” Jesse says, because that’s new. That’s very, very new. 

“I always wondered what you tasted like,” Genji says musingly. 

_“Ngh,”_ Jesse says, feelingly. Genji smiles at him, then finishes licking his fingers clean and slides down the bed to lick his _stomach_ clean and yes, alright, okay, Jesse ain’t gonna survive Genji not wearing the mask, apparently Genji not wearing the mask is gonna be the death of him. Real unfortunate, but oh well. 

“Good?” Genji asks quietly. 

“Oh, darlin’, so much better than good,” Jesse says as he smooths a hand over his head, and Genji kisses his stomach. 

“Good,” he murmurs. Jesse tugs him back up to kiss him, because ain’t no way he ain’t doing that if he can, and Genji goes with it easily and melts into him. It’s just about the sweetest thing Jesse could ever have imagined. Which—of course it is, it’s _Genji_. He’s all the best things Jesse could imagine. 

Better than he could’ve imagined, even. 

“I love you,” Jesse says again, and watches him smile.


	9. Chapter 9

Jesse is watching Genji train from the balcony, allegedly ‘cause he’s refamiliarizing himself with his allies’ abilities but honestly just ‘cause he’ll take any excuse to watch Genji. He sure as shit ain’t spent this much time watching Winston or Lena or any of the others. It’s a thin excuse, really, but he ain’t above it. 

Although at this point if anybody asked, he’d probably just tell ‘em the truth. 

“What are you doing up here?” Hanzo asks, and Jesse glances heavenwards. The Lord is testing him, apparently. 

“Watching your brother,” he says, not even bothering to look away from Genji as he speaks. 

“Why?” Hanzo steps up to the railing beside him, frowning down at the gym floor below. Jesse’s got a few dozen lies he could offer, but . . . 

“Because I occasionally need to get off his dick and let him train and I’m in withdrawal,” he says frankly. “Why, what are _you_ doing?” 

“Looking for you,” Hanzo says, which is such a surprising answer that Jesse don’t hardly know what to do with it. He blinks at the other in confusion, and Hanzo looks back at him neutrally. He does too damn many things that way, Jesse thinks. 

“What the hell for?” he asks, honestly bemused. 

“For my health,” Hanzo says dryly, and Jesse makes a face at him. He don’t gotta be a _dick_ about it. 

Then again, it’s Hanzo. When ain’t he being a dick? 

“Seriously, though,” he says. 

“I wanted to speak with you,” Hanzo says. His face is mostly blank, but his eyes are dark and intense. Kinda makes Jesse wanna shove him over and mess him up, except he ain’t actually sure if that’s a thing he’s gonna keep doing. Genji didn’t say anything about being monogamous, but there’s open relationships and there’s fucking a guy’s _brother_. Slash murderer, in this case. Jesse ain’t sure if Genji’d care either way, but that seems like the kind of thing to check _before_ he drags Hanzo to the locker room and fucks him. 

Anyway, he’d kind of rather just stay here and watch Genji train, so it ain’t like waiting’s that much of an imposition. 

“If this is the shovel talk, I am gonna laugh in your face,” he informs Hanzo, who frowns at him. 

“It is not a . . . shovel talk,” he says distastefully. “I merely wish to speak with you.” 

“What about?” Jesse leans on the rail, resting his chin in his hand. Hanzo . . . frowns, a bit, and don’t seem to know what to say. Maybe he didn’t expect to get this far. 

Admittedly, they ain’t talked too much in the time they’ve known each other. 

“Are you happy?” Hanzo says. 

“Uh, what?” Jesse says, grinning at him in disbelief. What the _fuck_ kinda question is that? 

“Are you happy,” Hanzo repeats. “Genji seems to be.” 

“Oh my God, Shimada, I thought this _wasn’t_ a shovel talk,” Jesse says. “Yes, I’m happy, you nosy bastard. And I am doing my damnedest to make sure he is too, so you can calm your tits on that whole line of questioning.” 

“It was just a question,” Hanzo says. 

“Nothing is ever _just_ with you,” Jesse says. 

“Hn.” Hanzo looks down at Genji. Genji’s in the middle of murdering a bunch of innocent training bots and don’t seem to have noticed him, though Jesse knows he knows _he’s_ there, at least—he waved, when Jesse got here. Jesse might’ve melted a bit over it. Just a bit. 

Ain’t his fault, alright? It’s only natural. 

“You seriously tracked me down just to ask me that?” Jesse says. 

“Yes.” Hanzo gives him one of them neutral looks like that is an entirely normal thing to do, which it definitely ain’t at all. 

“You’re a mess, Shimada,” Jesse says. Hanzo shrugs, looking back to Genji. 

“He has gotten much stronger,” he says. 

“Can’t say as I ever saw him to be particularly weak,” Jesse says. 

“He was not,” Hanzo says. He rests a hand on the rail. Jesse eyes it, mostly to make sure it ain’t about to stab no one. They saved each others’ lives a bit, yeah, but that don’t really mean he trusts Hanzo. He don’t know how anybody could, knowing what he did to Genji. “McCree . . .” 

“The one and only,” Jesse says, tipping his hat to him. Hanzo gives him an unreadable look. Jesse can see the family resemblance now, which is . . . a whole thing, pretty much. Genji’s never looked at him like Hanzo does, though. 

“I am glad,” Hanzo says. 

“Glad?” Jesse squints at him. 

“That you are happy,” Hanzo says. “You and my brother.” 

“Oh.” Jesse’s a bit mystified, but “why the hell do you think I’d care?” probably ain’t the _politest_ response to that, and Genji wants them to get on at least a bit. “Thanks?” 

“Do not thank me,” Hanzo says. 

“Yeah, you don’t really deserve it,” Jesse agrees, ‘cause he ain’t great at getting on with people he don’t like much, no matter what Genji wants. Hanzo looks at him again, another long, drawn-out moment, and then looks back at Genji. Jesse looks at him too, and watches him put down another training bot with brutal efficiency. It’s a real sweet sight, he thinks. 

“I do not,” Hanzo agrees. He’s right, so Jesse don’t say nothing to the contrary. Obviously. 

“You drunk?” he says instead, eyeing the bottle at the other’s waist suspiciously. 

“No,” Hanzo says, giving him an exasperated look. “People do occasionally say things without the involvement of alcohol.” 

“Sure,” Jesse says, as a man who has smelled alcohol on _this_ man more often than not. He don’t right now, admittedly, but he ain’t standing super-close to him neither. 

He probably smells like cigar smoke, himself, but that’s a little different. 

“I just wanted to know,” Hanzo says. “From the horse’s mouth, as it were.” 

“Well, now you know,” Jesse says, straightening up and folding his arms. “Does it matter?” 

“I would not have asked if it did not matter,” Hanzo says. Jesse steps in closer to him, idly wondering if he _does_ smell like liquor, but don’t notice anything. 

“Sure,” he says. Hanzo . . . tilts his head, just a little bit. He puts a hand on Jesse’s arm. Jesse eyes him, then shrugs it off. “No.” 

“No?” Hanzo tilts his head a little further. 

“I don’t know how Genji feels about it, so no,” Jesse says. 

“Genji, who directly invited me into _your_ bed?” Hanzo points out dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“That’s different,” Jesse says. “He wants to do that kinda thing, fine, whatever, but he ain’t said anything about it since last time and I ain’t gonna assume.” 

“Probably wise,” Hanzo says, like he wasn’t the one who touched _him_ , Jesus. Or was that supposed to be some kinda test? Because if so, Jesse ain’t interested in that kinda bullshit. 

“Do tell,” he says dubiously. 

Hanzo keeps watching Genji. Jesse keeps eyeing him, at least for the moment. He really don't know what Hanzo's after here. He really don't know what to _expect_ Hanzo to be after here. Hanzo ain't the most forthcoming man he knows, and even if he were, he hasn't even known him a full month. 

Jesus, not even a month. It really feels like it's been longer. 

Jesse decides to blame the whole "almost dying together" thing for that one. 

"I should go," Hanzo says. 

"I ain't gonna argue," Jesse says. 

Hanzo makes a quiet noise, but don't actually go. Jesse resists the urge to sigh. He really don't understand this man. 

He can't understand anybody who'd do something like what he did to anyone, much less their own damn family. 

Well, no. "Is an evil bastard" would usually cover that. Hanzo, though . . . is he an evil bastard, or a heartless coward, or just real fucking misguided? _Was_ he any of those things and he's changed, or is he just fooling Genji, or is it some combination of both? 

Jesse, personally, don't feel like most people change all that much. Not at the core. 

Genji's changed a whole hell of a lot, though, so maybe he'd feel different about that idea. 

"So you're settled in?" Jesse says finally, not sure what else to talk about and not comfortable with the silence. "Hang up a poster yet?" 

"I thought you said that I did not belong here," Hanzo says, flicking his eyes to him. 

"You don't," Jesse says bluntly. "Ain't my decision, though, so you oughta be taking advantage of that." 

"Mm," Hanzo says. He looks back at Genji. Jesse can't help feeling paranoid that he's watching him train to see how to hurt him again. Genji ain't that easy to hurt, though, so . . . 

Well, no . . . He'd be pretty hurt if Hanzo tried to kill him again, whether Hanzo actually hurt him or not. 

"I wasn't kidding about the poster," Jesse says. Maybe if Hanzo actually moves in, he'd be easier to trust. Last Jesse saw his room, he looked liable to bolt any moment. 

He never had that problem with trusting Genji, but then, Genji never killed anybody who loved him, and Hanzo is . . . Hanzo, basically. 

"I will think about it," Hanzo says. Jesse ain't sure if that's a victory, but he'll take it. "McCree . . ." 

"Mm?" Jesse's looking at Genji again. Forgive him; it's hard not to. 

"Nothing," Hanzo says. "Never mind." 

"If you say so," Jesse says, smiling briefly as he watches Genji shred another training bot. He looks back at Hanzo and finds the other already looking at him with a real weird look on his face. If it were anybody else, he'd say it was _sad_. 

It ain't anybody else, though. 

"What's that look about?" he asks with a frown, and Hanzo . . . hesitates, and then looks back towards Genji. 

"Nothing," he says quietly. "I was just . . . thinking." 

"Sure," Jesse says, not particularly believing him. Hanzo ain't the sort to give the benefit of the doubt, he thinks. "Thinking about . . . ?" 

"Nothing important," Hanzo lies. He puts a hand on the railing, close to Jesse. Jesse eyes it a bit like he might eye a rattler. It feels about like being this close to one. 

"You are a remarkably difficult man," he says. 

"Perhaps," Hanzo says. He sounds tired. Jesse glances back to his face, and he looks it too. 

"Definitely," he says. "You make Genji look straightforward." 

"I am very lucky that Genji is . . . Genji," Hanzo says slowly. 

"Damn right you are," Jesse says. Anybody else woulda killed him. 

"Was he very different, in your Blackwatch days?" Hanzo says. 

"He was gonna kill you," Jesse says. "So yes." 

"He was always the straightforward one," Hanzo says. "He was very . . . forthright. Very honest. I . . . was not." 

"I ain't shocked," Jesse says. He can't imagine Hanzo being forthright, outside of maybe asking for something in bed. Otherwise, the man's a fucking riddle box. 

Real easy, still, but only in the obvious ways. 

"It got him in trouble," Hanzo says. 

"Because you yourself are of course in no kind of trouble," Jesse says dryly. Hanzo . . . sighs, quietly, and puts his other hand on the rail, gripping it tight. 

"I want to be here," he says. 

"Ain't you a lucky man, then," Jesse says. That's all Genji, but he don't bother saying so. Hanzo ain't stupid. 

"I wonder if we would have been friends," Hanzo says distantly. Jesse gives him a baffled look. 

"Who?" he says. 

"You and I," Hanzo says like it's fucking obvious, which it really ain't. "Probably not." 

"I would concur with that assessment, myself," Jesse says. He's had some real weird friends in his life, and some real dubious ones too, but Hanzo would put them all to shame. He'd take the cake and the plate and the little serving spatula. 

"Mm." Hanzo's looking at Genji. "I suppose so." 

"Are you _trying_ to be my friend, because you are off to a horrible start," Jesse says skeptically. "Like, you were already at rock bottom, and then you started digging." 

"I am aware," Hanzo says stiffly. 

"So what _are_ you trying to do, then?" Jesse asks, still skeptical. 

"I do not know," Hanzo says tiredly. "I am just trying, McCree." 

"Seems to me you oughta be saving that for him," Jesse says, jerking his head towards Genji. "He's the one you owe it to." 

"I know," Hanzo says. "But I can want people to . . . _tolerate_ me, at least." 

"Tolerating is about the best you can expect, I'd think," Jesse says. 

"I know that too," Hanzo says. He looks real, real tired. Jesse feels a bit bad for him, almost, but only almost. It's _Hanzo_. He brought it on himself. 

"You ain't getting trusted that easy. It'll take time," Jesse finds himself saying anyway, like he's some kind of soft touch or something. Hanzo looks . . . surprised, a bit. 

"I know," he says again. "I can . . . wait." 

"Long as you plan on earning it," Jesse says. He can't really imagine how Hanzo _could_ , but Genji seems to think he can, so . . . 

If Genji wants to trust him, well, Jesse ain't gonna be the one to sabotage that. He'll keep an eye out, of course, 'cause he ain't _stupid_ , but he won't try and make things harder. Even if Hanzo really, really deserves them being harder. 

"I will," Hanzo says, with a strange look in his eye. Jesse, again, don't see how he could. But that's between Genji and Hanzo, and ain't got nothing to do with him. 

"Sure," he says, leaning on the rail to peer down at Genji again. The other looks to be wrapping up; at least, he's cleaning up after himself. Jesse wants to kiss him. Not that he ever don't want that, really. 

"I want you to tolerate me," Hanzo says. Jesse gives him a funny look. 

"I don't," he says. 

"I know." Hanzo exhales. "That is just . . . something I want. Someday." 

"That'd take an awful lot," Jesse tells him. 

"What else am I doing with my life?" Hanzo says. 

Fair enough, Jesse supposes. 

"I hate you," he says. "But as long as Genji wants you here, I ain't gonna argue." 

"I do not hate you," Hanzo says. "You are a good man." 

"You ain't," Jesse says. 

"I am aware." Hanzo looks at him with another one of those strange looks, and Jesse still don't understand him. He ain't ever gonna, he thinks, no matter how long Hanzo sticks around or not. 

Genji puts away the last training bot and looks up to the balcony. He waves. Jesse waves back, and can't help but smile at him. Can't do nothing else, really. Hanzo don't wave, but he inclines his head, so maybe that's supposed to be an acknowledgement of some kind. Genji heads for the stairs, and Jesse spares Hanzo one last look. 

"I really am gonna kill you if you ever hurt him again," he says. 

"That would probably be for the best," Hanzo says. 

"Brother! Jesse!" Geni calls out as he comes up the stairs towards them. "Are you not bored up here?" 

"You couldn't bore me if you tried, darlin'," Jesse says, looping an arm around him as he comes up to them and dropping a kiss on his visor. Genji loops an arm around him in return and laughs, which is still the prettiest sound in the world. 

"Oh?" he says. "Such flattery!" 

"I am certain you could find a way," Hanzo says dryly. Genji laughs again, sweet and easy. Jesse still hates Hanzo, but if he can do a thing like make Genji _laugh_ , well . . . he could hate him worse, put it that way. He don't think he'll ever like the man, not for anything, but as long as he makes Genji happy . . . 

He wonders if Hanzo feels similarly about him. 

"Genji," he says. Genji hums warmly and puts a hand on his chest. 

"Yes?" he asks. 

"Just saying your name," Jesse says, kissing his visor again 'cause he wants to say a whole lot of things and there ain't much else that could summarize 'em all. "Wanna hit the mess?" 

"Give me a minute to shower, and then yes," Genji says, nuzzling him briefly. "Do you want to come, Hanzo?" 

"No," Hanzo lies. Jesse cocks an eyebrow at him. 

"Great, lunch for three," he drawls. "Sounds like a good time." 

"I said—" 

"That you were coming? Yeah, I heard." 

Genji laughs, squeezing Jesse's side, then lets go of him. Jesse feels real warm and pleased just hearing it. 

"I will not be long," Genji says, then reaches up and takes off his mask like it's easy, and leans up to kiss Jesse. Jesse fucking melts for it, like every time, and wraps his arms around him. "Mmm. Wait for me?" 

"Always," Jesse promises a bit too seriously, and Genji laughs and reaches out to pat Hanzo's shoulder, then turns and leaves, clicking his mask back into place. Jesse watches him go, feeling like following him. But when don't he, really. 

"You cannot possibly actually want to eat with me," Hanzo says. 

"Shut up and come to lunch, Hanzo," Jesse says, giving him a dry look. "Nobody's gonna tolerate you any better with you avoiding everyone." 

"Fine," Hanzo mutters. Jesse pats his shoulder too, mostly just 'cause Genji did it, and Hanzo gives him yet another strange look. Jesse don't much care. 

"Good," he says, and watches Genji cross the gym floor below. He's pretty as anything, moving easy and strange in his upgraded prosthetics, and Jesse already can't wait for him to come back and smile at him again. 

He never can, with Genji. There's a lot he never can, with Genji. 

He's just real glad to have him back, and even gladder to have him in all these new ways too. He can't imagine nothing better. 

How could he? It's _Genji_.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)


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